The Master Plan
by voiceofreason99
Summary: Something happens to the Tardis, causing the Doctor to be pulled into the time vortex with Amy and Rory, separated from each other. But that isn't all: the Doctor's companions and enemies are all pulled into a giant plan that threatens them all. The Doctor's companions must find a way to save the Doctor throughout time and space, even if they've never met him! Please review :)
1. The Split

_**Hi! This is the new FanFic I'm writing, and I really hope you enjoy it! I've got a rough plan of what's going to happen, but most of it's just made up on the spot, so you know as much as I do! To make things clearer, this starts at some point in series 7 with the Doctor travelling with Amy and Rory. There's a bit set during the last moments of Asylum of the Daleks (you'll know) and the last section takes place in 2014. Please review!**_

* * *

"Where next?" the Eleventh Doctor beamed, hopping around the Tardis console like a child on their birthday, dressed in his usual tweed blazer, dungarees and a red bow tie.

"Anywhere other than Coco Cabana beach," Rory frowned. "You promised sun tans and ice cream, not shark attacks and man eating sand."

"In fairness, he didn't tell us that he meant the outer space version," Amy added.

"Well you really should've specified!" the Doctor reminded them, flinging a switch in a large, dramatic motion.

"How about Paris? Nice food, sexy atmosphere, sexier French blokes . . ."

"Married, remember?" Rory interrupted, gesturing to the ring on his finger.

"Spoil sport," Amy groaned.

"How about the Millennium of the year three thousand?" the Doctor suggested. "The first completely digital celebration in human history."

"The digital element seems to take the fun out of it," Rory disagreed.

"The opening and closing ceremonies to the London Olympics were animated, and half the athletes were robots."

"What?" Rory puzzled.

"I like the sound of it," Amy sided with the Doctor, swinging around the console. "Let the games begin."

"Exactly!" the Doctor laughed. "Three thousand, here we . . ."

The Doctor was instantly silenced. The entire ship rattled out of control, sending the three of them flying. Upside-down, the Tardis spun wildly, a blur with smoke and shards of metal that tore apart. All three screamed, clinging to whatever they could hold before giving up and falling, or was it flying, as the Tardis sparked into flames.

The monitor cracked into fragments, which tumbled through the room, slicing the Doctor's tweed jacket, narrowly missing his face. Amy forced her eyes shut, nearly blinded by smoke that blew from all around her. Rory screamed, stretching out his arms to grasp anything that might offer him some support.

Piercing his skin, a shard of glass sliced across the Doctor's forehead. Amy's head collided with a wall, knocking her unconscious as a little stream of her red blood disappeared in the chaos. Rory clung to a railing, wrapping his limbs around it. A chunk of metal fell, and the railing he clung to was ripped out of place. As the railing swiped through the room, out of control, Rory was flung off it. He cried out, reaching for Amy's hand was he fell through the Tardis doors, out into the time vortex.

Air was sucked from the Tardis. Silence . . . The screams from Amy and the Doctor disappeared as they were pulled out into the time vortex with Rory, surrounded by shards of glass and metal. They were lost through time.

* * *

"I am Oswin Oswald. I fought the Daleks and I am human! Remember me," Oswin said defiantly, stood in her imaginary space ship inside her mind. She was a Dalek. She was chained inside the Asylum. She was doomed.

"Thank you," the Doctor said.

"Run!" Oswin pleaded. Then she watched, a little fascinated, as the Doctor ran out of view, surrounded by flames and explosions as the Dalek bombardment began. She collapsed onto her sofa, a smile on her face. "Run, you clever boy. And remember." Then she turned her head, feeling the heat of the flames around her, when she saw . . . A blue box? "What?" Oswin gasped.

A blinding white light spilled out of the box as the doors were opened, rolling out through the room. Out stepped a woman – a blonde woman. Her hair was curly, a bit of a mess, and the surroundings of her eyes were dark. Rips and tears covered her cream, rugged clothes and her black tights. Strange ornaments and pieces of jewellery were weaved through her hair and along her wrists.

The mysterious woman in the blue box stretched out her hand. "Come with me. You're running out of time." Her voice was posh, and laced with a suspicious creepiness.

Ash fell from above Oswin as she staggered to her feet, adjusting her red dress. "Why?" she asked, her voice cowering.

"Because all of time needs you. Now, come with me," the blonde woman insisted, a shadow falling across her face.

Oswin looked around her – her ship was falling apart, sparking with flames. Did she really have a choice but to accept the blonde woman's offer? She skipped into the blue box and the doors closed behind her.

Oswin stopped, wide jawed as she looked in front of her. "What is this place?"

"This is the Tardis," the blonde woman replied, suddenly appearing in front of Oswin, leaning against the console. The room was lit with blue and green light, with a hexagonal console in the centre. "It's not completely the Tardis, however. Parts of this room are based on the actual Tardis, along with Dalek designs from your mind.

"What does that mean? What does it matter? It's bigger on the inside!" Oswin gasped. Suddenly the room around her disappeared, along with the blonde woman, leaving her alone in white light; the room and the girl reappeared just as fast. "What the hell just happened?"

"Oh, sorry about that," the blonde girl apologised, biting her lip. "I guess I just flickered a bit."

"What's going on?" Oswin snapped. "What's this box? Hold on . . . Am I dead?"

"Yeah, sorry," the woman sighed. "You died when the Dalek asylum exploded. This is all in your head. That's why parts of this room are Dalek – because you're a Dalek."

"I'm not a Dalek! I am human!" Oswin insisted.

"Really? Than explain those," the blonde woman said, gesturing to the walls of the Tardis, which were covered with golden spheres.

"But . . ." Oswin stuttered.

"I'm sorry, Oswin, but things are only going to get more complicated from here."

"Hold on a minute: I died in the asylum, and now, in my dead mind, I'm talking to a mysterious woman in a ship that's bigger on the inside? Ok . . ." Clara clarified. "Is this even possible?"

"Well, it's happening," the woman shrugged. "Anyway, to business."

"What business?" Oswin asked.

"We need to save the Doctor."

"I just saved him. I help teleport him off the asylum."

"Yes, but that was ages ago. We need to save him again, because he's in even more trouble than a few Daleks."

"What trouble? No, wait, who are you?"

"I'm Rose . . . No, no I'm not . . . I'm not Rose, I'm . . . Martha, Donna, Sarah, Jack, Clara, Amy Jo, River, Rory, Mickey . . . I'm not Mickey! Mickey's the idiot and I'm not an idiot. No. I'm Bad Wolf. I'm a reconstructed impersonation of Bad Wolf," the blonde woman realised, still looking confused.

"Bad Wold?" Oswin raised her eyebrows. "And I thought Oswin was a strange name."

"Yes. That must be right," Bad Wolf frowned.

"But you can't be real. This can't be real!" Oswin gasped. "You're only in my head."

"Exactly! That's the beauty of this! I'm not a real, physical being, so I can only appear in people's minds."

"Alright . . . So you're imaginary. I could just strip off naked and it wouldn't matter because none of this exists."

"That'll be the day," Bad Wolf grinned.

"Ok then, Wolf Girl. Tell me everything. What's happening to the Doctor?"

"He's in danger," Bad Wold frowned. "I've been activated to save him and I need your help before it's too late."

"And how do we do that?" Oswin inquired.

"We need to make contact," Bad Wolf said, a smile on her face.

* * *

"No, Tish, Mum isn't addicted to Countdown! She's watched it a couple of times and played a long; it's not the same as Dad and that poker site," laughed Martha Jones, speaking on her phone as she wondered through a park. The soft grass brushed against her legs, birds sung like whistles. "Ah! Have you seen little Maggie? Leona must be so proud of his little girl." Mud squelched beneath her healed boots, hiding along grey top under a leather jacket.

Martha was happy. Her life had moved on since the last time she'd seen the Doctor – she and Mickey had settled down in London, having abandoned their risky, freelance lifestyle that had nearly killed them. They'd considered having children, but decided they were too busy at the moment with Leo's family extending. Tish had moved up to Liverpool, leading a PR company, which she enjoyed. Martha worked part-time at a local GP practise and Mickey had accepted a job at a mechanics. It wasn't the crazy, dangerous life they used to have, but it worked for them, and they liked it.

"Well, anyway, Mickey's taking me out to that science thing tonight. It sounds a bit Lazarus, but we're eating out after so it should be some good fun. And, as Leo's going with Mum to find some baby stuff for Maggie's new rom at IKEA, that leaves Dad with babysitting duties. I laughed when I heard! It'll be mayhem! They'll be baby food over the walls and someone will end up missing and . . ." Martha stopped speaking. Tish, on the other end of the conversation, sounded restless. "Sorry, Tish, I've got to go," Martha stuttered, switching off her phone and placing it back into her pocket.

A tear puddled in her eye, and her body quivered. Between the trees stood a blue object, shining through the green leaved bushes and the glittering orange sunlight. Martha stepped towards it, her knees wobbling a little as she manoeuvred off the track. Was it . . .? No. It couldn't be. Martha hadn't seen it in so long, and now it had suddenly appeared on the most ordinary of days. It was the Tardis. It seemed so familiar to her, yet it was new and not quite how she remembered.

"Doctor . . ." she stuttered, reaching out a hand to the Tardis door. A slither of a smile curled the corners of her lips. "It can't be . . ."

* * *

_**Really hope you liked this! I'll post another chapter soon :) Please review!**_


	2. To Save the Doctor

**_Hope you like this chapter. Please review! :)_**

* * *

Amy raised her head. She was resting on a metal floor, which sent a chilling sensation along her cheek. Her flaming red hair was sprawled out, covering her face. There was a bronze light in her eyes as she crawled to her knees, aching all over. She recoiled as she touched her forehead, pulling her hands away from the sharp, stabbing pain. Her fingers were red. Shaking, she removed a small makeup mirror from her jacket pocket to check herself, gasping a little at the bulging cut above her left eyebrow. Slowly, she remembered what had happened: the Tardis was out of control; she'd fallen and hit her head on a wall as the ship spun upside down.

Where was she? There was a soft golden light, but other than that, she was in the dark. There were some synthesised sounds in the distance – _machinery_, she instantly thought. That would mean civilisation of some sort. Was that a good thing? She was either in an empty broom cupboard or an alien dissection laboratory.

"Rory!" she whispered. "Rory? Get your stupid face where I can see it! Rory . . ." she pleaded. "Doctor? Are you there? Someone . . . Someone just say something. Anything!"

Suddenly, there was a grating of metal, not in Amy's room, but somewhere close. She could hear something approaching. Slowly, Amy staggered to her feet, raising her fists, knowing she'd probably be too scared to put up a decent fight. She stumbled backwards, eventually hitting a wall, as she waited . . .

* * *

"Isn't she pretty?" Leo Jones smiled, holding up baby Maggie in his arms.

"She takes after her father," Mickey pointed out, helping himself to some crisps in the middle of the kitchen table.

"That's a horrible thing to say!" Francine laughed. "No daughter wants to look like their dad, especially if their dad's my son!"

"Hey!" Leo moaned as Mickey and Francine giggled to themselves. There was a loud bump from the next room. "Damn it. Keisha! Are you ok?" Leo panicked, hurrying out of the room to find is older daughter.

Francine laughed a little. "That little one's just like Martha – very curious. Always scurrying behind bookcases and running about."

"It sounds like she was a bit of a handful," Mickey smiled.

"Still is. First there was the Doctor, then Torchwood, then the two of you going freelance . . . Jesus, it sent me mad!" she laughed. Then she sighed. "Your life now – it's right for you two?"

"Yes. Of course, Mrs Jones," Mickey replied.

"Really? You've both travelled with that man, and now you're both acting like a normal married couple. I'm not going to deny that I feel happy about that, but sometimes I wonder whether it's right for the two of you. I wouldn't know, but it seems odd to go from such excitement to the everyday."

Mickey shrugged. "I guess it is a little odd. We agreed, though. The Doctor won't be back for us; he'll move on just like he always does, so we should to. There's no point waiting all our lives for something that's never going to happen. Maybe every day is what we need right now."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Francine sighed. "Now then, would you like a coffee?"

"Ah, no," Mickey cried, getting out his seat. "Leave it to me, Mrs Jones. I'm the son-in-law; I need to keep up appearances. What would _you _like?"

"I would love a lemonade, now that you mention it."

"Then one lemonade is coming up!" Mickey announced. He flicked through the drawers, searching for the lemonade. Where on Earth was it?

"Need some help?" Francine offered.

"I'm fine, Mrs Jones. I've got this under control," Mickey insisted, badly timing his words as he knocked his head on a cabinet, having to bite his tongue to avoid cursing.

"Bottom cabinet, second on the right."

"Ah!" Mickey cried, finally finding it. "I would've found it eventually."

"I'm sure you would've," Francine grinned, a little sarcastic.

"Mickey? Mickey, are you in?" a voice called, appearing in the house as the door slammed shut.

"Yeah, babes. In the kitchen!" Mickey called.

The kitchen door swung open as Martha stepped in. Both Francine and Mickey gasped a little, noticing the tear stains on Martha's face, and her unusually reddened eyes. Francine stood. In shock.

"Oh my God! What's happened?" Mickey asked, immediately running to Martha's side, pulling her in to a warming hug.

"Mickey . . ." Martha stuttered.

"Come on. Tell me what it is," Mickey insisted, cupping Martha's head in his warm hands.

"Martha, sweetie. What's wrong?" Francine asked.

"It's . . . It's here," Martha stuttered.

"What's here?" Mickey inquired, a little concerned.

"The Tardis," Martha replied. "I was in the park, talking to Tish on the phone, then suddenly I saw the Tardis. It was just there, right in the middle of the woods. Clear as day."

"Did you see him? Did you see the Doctor?"

"No. Only the Tardis. I didn't go in. I just came straight here. I ran the whole way. I was just so shocked. I didn't know what to do."

"It's alright. It's alright," Mickey soothed, wiping her cheeks.

"What do we do know?" Martha asked.

"I don't know. It's up to you, babes. We could go and see him if you want. We would've have to travel with him; he's probably got some new companions anyway."

"I don't know!" Martha panicked, shaking. "It's been so long."

"Go and see him," Francine said.

"What?" Martha gasped.

"Go and speak to him. Talk to the Doctor. You both deserve it after this long. He'll want to meet you, I bet, so why don't you. Just make sure you come back. I want to see both of your faces back here before dark," Francine insisted. "Go on. He might leave soon."

Mickey turned to Martha. Their eyes met, filled with hope and confusion and excitement. "Ok. I'll start the car. Just let me get a coat," Mickey decided, running up the stairs to get more clothes, leaving Martha and Francine in the kitchen.

"You should get ready," Francine said. "You won't want to be late."

"Are you sure, Mum? I know you've never really been too happy about . . ."

"Who cares?" Francine smiled. "If you want to, then go. All I care about is that my daughter could miss an opportunity she may never get again."

"Mum!" Martha cried, going to hug Francine.

"What's this all for?" Francine asked. "You're not going anywhere – you're just meeting an old friend."

"But you know the Doctor. If he asks for one last adventure, I can't say no."

"Then go!" Francine insisted. "I don't care what happens; just make sure that you and Mickey get back here safely. Now then, where's that smile?"

Martha smiled, not disguising the tears in her eyes. "I love you, Mum."

"This is not a goodbye! You will be back!" Francine ordered. "And I want to know every last story the Doctor has to tell you."

"I'll make sure he tells us the best," Martha grinned.

"That my girl. Go on. Enjoy yourself."

"Martha! Come on, I'm ready!" Mickey called, running down the stairs.

"Ok . . . See you later," Martha waved goodbye as she hurried into the car with Mickey. As their car left the drive, Martha insisted on waving out the window. "We'll be back soon!"

"Oh . . ." Leo stuttered, emerging from the room next to the kitchen. "Where's Martha gone?"

"Oh. She's gone out with Mickey," Francine frowned, pursing her lips and heading back into the kitchen. "I don't think she'll be back any time soon."

* * *

"So, what's going to happen to the Doctor?" Oswin asked.

Bad Wolf sighed. "You have the Dalek archives in your head, right? Have you ever heard of the Time War?"

"Yeah," Oswin stuttered. "The war between the Daleks and the Time Lords."

"During the war, the Doctor capture a device, and planned to use it to end the war, destroying both species," Bad Wolf explained. "The device was called the Moment, but it was so advanced that it gained a consciousness, which took the form of Bad Wolf and persuaded the Doctor to find another way of ending the war."

"So you're the Moment?"

"No. The Moment doesn't exist anymore . . . But its intentions do," Bad Wolf smiled.

Oswin looked confused, "What do you mean?"

"After the war, the Doctor installed a protocol into the Tardis software so that when the Doctor is considered a danger, Bad Wolf is activated to prevent it."

"What?"

"Ok," Bad Wolf thought, considering how to explain. "In the future, the Doctor will be faced with a choice that could destroy thousands of people, and he may not see an alternative. That situation has risen, so Bad Wolf has been activated to prevent the Doctor from making the wrong decision."

"Alright," Oswin nodded, beginning to understand. "And that's why this place looks like the Tardis: because you're part of the Tardis software! But why are you in my head? How's this going to prevent anything?"

"Because you provide me with a unique advantage. You're dead, Oswin, which means that I'm free to rummage through your head – a head full of data from the Dalek catalogues. Your Dalek body hasn't completely been destroyed yet, so we still have time to do some basic operations. Currently, every real time second is two minutes here. We've got five minutes and twenty one seconds left to get to work."

Oswin laughed a little. "I love it when you talk clever. Just like the Doctor."

"Well, I do try my best," Bad Wolf smiled with a wink. "Anyway – to business!"

"Ok. How can I help?" Oswin asked, jumping beside the Tardis console with Bad Wolf.

"Best way to stop the Doctor from causing havoc, don't let him get into trouble into the first place. We need to change his future."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Make contact . . . But with who?"

"I've got a list of the Doctor's known companions in my head. We should pick one that the Doctor will be with now. Amy or Rory?"

"No. We can't contact either. The Doctor was separated from them when I lost control."

"You lost control?"

"I was hit by a space craft, causing me to be hit off course. The Doctor, Amy and Rory were flung out into the time vortex. Since I landed in a completely different place, I don't know where they are or how to make contact . . . Earth!" Bad Wolf cried jumping into the air. "I landed on Earth . . . Will land . . . Have landed? Tenses – what is the point? Early twenty first century."

"Place a setting into the Tardis software: the companion that we choose will be able to contact the Doctor with one press of a button."

"But I don't know where the Doctor is?"

"The Tardis is linked with his sonic thing."

"I can't change any software in this form and when I landed I was half dead."

Oswin stopped to think, gritting her teeth in thought. "Contact a companion anyway; we'll make a plan up as we go."

"Ok," Bad Wolf agreed, picking up the Tardis phone, pressing it to her ear as she heard a ringing on the other end.

"Who are you calling?W

"Erm . . ." Bad Wolf thought, trying to read the monitor. "Donna Noble."

* * *

_**Dum, dum, dum! From what I've planned so far, the next chapter is gonna be pretty dramatic . . . Torchwood is back!**_


	3. The Beat of Four

_**Hi! I hope you like this one. Torchwood and Donna are back!**_

* * *

Gasping, the Doctor woke into life. There was darkness all around him, briefly illuminated by the bright flashes of light that surrounded him. He was covered in mud, half buried in a French field. There was a flash of orange flames, accompanied by the screams of dying men and debris that was flung high into the air. The explosion nearly deafened him.

Aching, he crawled to his feet, shaking as the ground beneath him shuddered. Staggering, he ran down a muddy hill, his face briefly illuminated by sparks and explosions in the distance. Something caught his trousers – barbed wire – which cut across his leg as he tripped, rolling through mud, down a steep hill.

He forced his eyes shut as water immersed him. Blackness surrounded him, seeping into his lungs and mouth and nose. Then, suddenly, he wasn't. A large, warm hand grasped him by the hair on the back of his head, pulling him out of the muddy lake.

"Wo, wo, woah!" the Doctor squirmed, struggling as he was pulled to his knees. "Let me go! Who are you?"

The Doctor wiped the mud from his eyes. There were several men in front of him, head to toe in military uniform. As a mine in the distance blew, scattering men into the air, their sharp, cold faces were illuminated. They pointed guns between the Doctor's eyes.

"Ok . . . Just . . ." the Doctor stuttered, urged them to lower their guns . . . Then he realised. A red band was strapped around their arms, accompanied with a white circle and a black swastika. "Oh . . ."

* * *

"Sorry, can you make this quick. And I swear, if you're some flipping recorded woman tryin'a sell me some crackpot insurance scheme, you can shove the whole flaming thing right in your . . ." Donna Noble screamed, trailing off her sentence as she looked up to realise that her mother was giving her glaring looks, mouthing the words: 'Shush, it's Strictly!'

"Well, I was going to ask whether that was Donna Noble, but judging by the attitude I'm guessing I've got it right," the voice at the end of the line giggled – Bad Wolf.

"What did you just-?"

"It's the tango any second know. Keep it quiet," Sylvia Noble insisted. Donna glared.

"Donna, I need you to go into a different room – away from any family," Bad Wolf instructed.

"Why? It can't really be that important," Donna frowned.

"Please. Just do it," Bad Wolf insisted.

"I'll be down in a bit. Like you care!" Donna teased to her mother, then left the room into a corridor. "Ok. What do you want?"

"Listen to every word I have to say," Bad Wolf clearly instructed.

"Hold on . . ." Donna thought, "Have I heard your voice before."

"No!" Bad Wolf snapped. "You might have heard me on a recorded message before; that's all. But never mind that; I have something for you to do."

"And what's that?" Donna asked, listening closely to the next words that Bad Wolf spoken.

"Have you heard of Black Demon Industries?"

* * *

"It's weird to just look at it," Martha sighed. She stood in the park, slightly dampened by the light rain that sprinkled over her and Mickey. The Tardis was in front of them, scared and dented.

"After so long . . ." Mickey muttered. "Has it changed?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that," Martha agreed. "What about him? Do you think the Doctor's changed?"

"He must've. The last time we saw him . . . I've never seen him like that."

"It was like he was giving in," Martha sighed, dazing into the distance. Slowly, she retrieved a key from her pocket, momentarily watching it in her hands, before slotting it into the Yale lock of the Tardis.

"You kept it," Mickey noticed, gesturing to Martha's Tardis key.

"Well, I guess I never could let it go," Martha replied. With a twist, the blue door unlocked. She pushed.

The bigger-on-the-inside of the Tardis was revealed to Martha and Mickey: the blue and green lights, the hexagonal console, the glass floor and the doors that led deeper into the machine. But it was a wreck. The floor had cracked, and in several places was missing chunks. A section of the console was torn off, and now weakly swung, only connected by a few trembling wires. Blocks of metal scattered over the floor, creating a jungle of machinery and smoke.

Mickey coughed, spitting out the smoke he'd inhaled. "Jesus! The Doctor's really let this place go!"

"Doctor!" Martha called. "It's Martha Jones; your old companion! And Mickey! Hello? Are you in here?"

"I don't think he is," Mickey said after an unanswered silence. Martha dropped her head. Mickey watched as she wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Aah, babes," Mickey cried, hugging Martha. "He'll be here somewhere."

"But what if he isn't?" Martha asked. "After all this time and he's not even here."

"It's the Doctor! He'll have got in some sort of trouble; that's why the ships so damaged," Mickey concluded.

"Well, it's the best explanation I can think of," Martha agreed. She cocked her head to a side. "It's a bit different in here. Like it?"

"A bit . . . Underwater."

Martha laughed. "Yeah, I get what you mean. Look, even the controls are different," Martha pointed out, stepping towards the Tardis console. "I'd started to remember what some of them did."

"I didn't even try. I just left the skinny space guy to do all the work for me," Mickey joked. As he stepped towards Martha, his foot caught on a piece of fallen equipment. He recovered his balance, but in the commotion, pressed a button at the console.

Immediately, the Tardis was filled with the repeating rhythm. It was oddly hypnotic. Martha looked up, clearly recognising it. Mickey did too. _One two three four . . . One two three four . . ._ On went that beat of four, pulsing like a heartbeat. "But . . . It can't be!" Martha gasped. _One two three four . . . One two three four . . ._ "The sound . . . It's from the Archangel Network . . . It's Harold Saxon . . . It's the Master!"

* * *

"JACK!" Gwen Cooper screamed. "Jack, can you hear that?"

The beat of four rippled through the Torchwood Hub, playing through the speakers and computers. "Yeah!" Captain Jack Harkness replied, typing at a computer in a panic.

"What is that God damn beating?" Rex asked.

"The rhythm used by the Archangel Network to hypnotise the world," Jack replied.

"I remember that!" Gwen gasped. "But that was the Master! You told me it was the Master. Is this the Master? Is he back?"

Jack squinted at the computer screen, taking down the location. "I dunno, give me a minute."

"Where's it coming from? I've checked the radio, internet, TV – how come we can only hear it in the Hub?" Rex asked, stepping by Jack.

"Like I said, give me a minute," Jack insisted. He paused. "What? The drumming beat is being subsonic frequency, emitted from somewhere in London . . . A park somewhere. I'll get CCTV . . . Oh my God!"

"What is it Jack?" Gwen worried.

"It's the Tardis. The sound is coming from the Tardis," Jack gasped.

"But if we can hear this, who else can?" Rex thought. Jack and Gwen looked worried.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" Oswin panicked. She watched in horror, confused as Bad Wolf dropped the telephone. She opened her mouth, where the eerie beat of four emerged. "What's that sound?"

Bad Wolf didn't reply, yet the drum beat rung out of her mouth.

* * *

"What's that sound?" Donna asked, only hearing the beat of four on the other end. "It's . . . I've heard it before . . . It's . . . It reminds me of . . ." Vespiform, Pompeii and Sontarans, all flooding into her head. "Argh!" she screamed, crumbling to her knees. "My head! What's happening to my head?" The Library, Adipose, Ood.

"Donna? Donna, what's happening?" Sylvia asked, stepping out into the corridor. "Donna!"

"My head! What's happening to my head?" Donna cried. Midnight, Racnoss, Daleks. "It's burning up!"

"No, no, no, no!" Sylvia cried, holding her hands to her mouth in panic. Suddenly, she realised what she had to do. She rushed to a phone, press speed dial and waited. "Hello? I need Torchwood!"

* * *

"Jack, it's Sylvia Noble!" Gwen called, picking up the phone.

"What's happened?" Jack asked, instantly serious.

"It's Donna."

Jack realised what she meant immediately. "Rex, stay here. Gwen, with me," he instructed.

"Why do I stay here?" Rex cried, annoyed.

"You're the newest!" Jack called, stepping through the circular door as it rolled to a side. "Gwen."

"Oh," Gwen gasped, turning back to Rex, "get us a pizza. Not one of your rubbish American ones – something I can actually digest."

"Hey! That's my country mate!"

"This is England, mate! God bless Wales . . . I miss Cardiff."

"Yeah, but London has better Wi-Fi," Rex shrugged.

"Stop flirting and come on!" Jack called.

"Great," Gwen sighed, "another nagging American."

"Right, cos you're so funny," Rex said sarcastically.

Gwen winked back at him, then ran off with Jack.

Jack and Gwen emerged out into a car park, where the Torchwood van waited. They jumped in, Jack burst the engine into life and stormed away. Torchwood had moved from Cardiff to the centre of London, where their van emerged out onto the streets. They skipped lights, swerved corners and speeded through the traffic – bounding on their way to save Donna.

* * *

_**Really hoped you liked this! Please review! I've got some good ideas for the next chapter, so I hope you enjoy it (things don't look good for Oswin . . . Or do I mean Clara?) **_


	4. Reaching For the Stars

_**Hi, I really hope you like this one! Please review :)**_

* * *

The Torchwood van skidded to a halt outside Donna's house, scraping pale tracks into the road. Quickly they leapt out of their car. Jack forced the front door open with his shoulder, then followed Gwen into the corridor where Donna lied, screaming in pain with her hands over her head.

"Jesus! You could've knocked!" Sylvia cried, staring in awe as her front door was knocked off its hinged.

"Yeah, sorry," Gwen shrugged, kneeling down beside Donna. "Got it?" she asked Jack.

"Yeah," Jack confirmed, passing her a syringe. Gwen injected Donna with a clear liquid in her neck. Immediately, Donna fell unconscious.

"What have you done? What was that?" Sylvia asked.

"Retcon," Jack replied. "Sends her to sleep and she forgets everything. No more Doctor."

"So she's ok?" Sylvia clarified.

"Yeah. But we should take her back to the Hub for more testing – just to be sure," Gwen insisted. "Jack, some help getting her in the van, please."

"Yep," Jack said, holding Donna under her arms and picking her up. "Have a good day, Miss Noble."

* * *

Rory Williams had never been so dazed. Slowly, he woke, his head dusted with the soil and grit that covered the floor beneath him. His vision, once blurred, began to focus on his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a cave. It was dark and glowing with an orange light, and the sheer heat had resulted in large, dark patches of sweat forming under his armpits and across his forehead. Slowly, he tried to move, but realised that he was restrained by chains that were attached to his ankles. Throughout the cave, many people, just like him, we also chained. They cowered, coughing and gasping for cool air instead of the nauseating humidity.

"Hello," a woman's voice chimed, making Rory jump.

"Argh!" he cried. "What was that for?"

"Shush," the woman insisted, keeping her voice down. She had short brown hair, and wore a jacket and boots.

"Why do I need to be quite?"

"I don't know. It's what people tend to do in these sorts of situations," she shrugged.

Rory pressed his hand to his forehead, aching. "How did you get here?"

"I wanted to ask you the same question," the woman said, flashing her card at Rory: she was a journalist. "I was just here to get samefacts. How about you?"

"It's a little tricky to explain."

"I'm clever and seen a lot more in my lifetime than I think you ever will do."

"Ha! You'd be surprised," Rory giggled. "I'm Rory. And you are?"

"Sarah Jane Smith," the woman replied.

* * *

The Doctor was dragged by two Nazi officers through their trenches. War erupted around them, spitting soil into the air. Desperately, the Doctor fought against them – kicking out as they patrolled him forwards, past the vicious stares and soldiers that trembled with rifles in their hands. The sky was as dead and dark as the fearful expressions.

"Where are you taking me?" the Doctor complained, struggling against them.

"Never you mind," the Officer on his right grunted.

"Has anyone else arrived? A girl with ginger hair? A guy with a long nose?" the Doctor wondered. "What about a blue box?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Not shut up."

"Let me go! Please! Just let me go and I won't cause any trouble," the Doctor begged.

"Plead to her," the Officer shrugged. He opened a half-broken door, which led into a small mud-lined room, lit with flickering candlelight, where he threw the Doctor and locked himself and another officer inside. There were large maps of Europe on the walls, infected with a red cloud that loomed out of Germany and over the rest of the continent. There was a flimsy wooden desk, and littering of both documents and rat excrement. A large red curtain covered the far side of the room.

"Who? You said 'her'; who is she?" the Doctor asked, stumbling as he regained balance.

"I think he means me, Sweetie," stuttered River Song.

The Doctor turned his head, facing into the darkness in the corner of the room where his wife cowered. Her frizzy blonde hair was a mess with mud; her body tattered and bruised. "River!" the Doctor gasped, staggering beside her, dropping to his knees. "How long have you been here?"

"Days . . . Weeks?" River guessed, her throat croaked. "It's good to see you."

"I'm so, so sorry," the Doctor stuttered, hugging her firmly. "Thank God you're alright."

River smiled, then leaned in to kiss the Doctor on the lips. Within moments, the Doctor pulled away, a little shocked. "What? What is it?" River asked in confusion.

The Doctor took his hand to his lips. When his fingers touched his skin, he felt a cold, gooey liquid over his face. His hands were stained with the purple liquid which now covered his face. He gasped in shock. "What the hell is this?"

"Urgh!" River cried, stamping onto her feet. "Damn it. I thought I had a good impression going until that. Never kiss! I should've learnt that a long time ago. The venom sacks must be leaking."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, staggering away from River.

"I think we can explain," the two Nazi Officers said in unison. Suddenly, without warning, they spat lumps of purple, blood-like fluid out of their mouths. Suckers sprouted across their bodies, until, eventually, their whole figures swelled into that of a cone-headed Zygon.

The Doctor turned to River. "Where's River? You must've kept her alive, so where is she?"

"Never too far," the Zygon River said, unveiling the red curtain at the end of the room, revealing the true River in a tangle of organic Zygon matter, restrained against the wall. "Don't worry, Doctor. She's perfectly fine."

"Why are you here?" the Doctor asked. "Why the Second World War? Surely it's not a coincidence."

"Ha!" River laughed. "Asif we would reveal our plans to you, Doctor. However, I will share part of it."

"And what's that?"

River removed the rest of the red curtain, revealing a second tangle of Zygon matter, yet that one was empty. "The Zygons want a copy of you, Doctor."

* * *

"What just happened?" Oswin asked, holding Bad Wolf by the shoulders as she dropped to the floor of the Tardis. "What was that sound?"

"Ah," Bad Wolf groaned, crawling back into her feet, leaning against the console. "Yeah. I probably should've remembered to look after that."

"What was it?"

"An audio file in the Tardis. It was activated, so when it played, it played through me. I'm an extension of the Tardis, remember," Bad Wolf explained.

"And what was the sound?" Oswin asked. Suddenly, the room flickered, disappearing before flickering back, a little out of place.

Bad Wolf looked concerned. "Never mind the noise. Oswin . . . You're dying."

"What? No, but I'm here with you and . . ."  
"Your Dalek body is being burned, and I'm guessing you have moments left until even the pieces of software that hold this conversation together are getting singed."

"No . . ." Oswin stuttered. "My Dalek body; I'm human!"

"I think it's time to stop dreaming, Oswin," Bad Wolf frowned. "If you don't believe me, just ask a Doctor."

Oswin turned a head, a tear building in her eye. Stepping from beneath the console room, the Doctor, the man she recognised from her cameras. He wasn't dressed in his tweed suit, but in a doctor's white jacket instead, and a stethoscope around his neck. "Doctor? What's is this?"

The Doctor her his stethoscope against her chest, then took notes on a chart. He looked the Oswin with blank, mechanic eyes and recited his words like a manual. "Hardware casing impaired. Troubleshooting unsuccessful. Estimated seventy seconds until complete failure."

"What does he mean?" Oswin frowned, turning to River. "Doctor? Look me in the eye!" she pleaded desperately, clicking her fingers in front of his face and shaking him, yet he only responded with the same empty expression.

"He means that you're dying," Bad Wolf stuttered.

"No!" Oswin snapped. "He said I had seventy seconds, so in this time it's . . ."

"He was talking about this time," Bad Wolf interrupted her. "And now it's roughly sixty, so don't waste your last moments."

"Last moments," Oswin gasped, almost laughing. "No . . . I can't die. This isn't happening. I'm too young to die."

"Yes, you are," Bad Wolf agreed solemnly.

"I should be getting drunk at parties and travelling the universe to touch the stars! But no . . . I really hate Daleks. I really wanted to make something out of my life – join the Alaska, have some fun, maybe a family or at least a string of doomed relationships – but those Daleks just had to go and kill me, didn't they. I was dead before this explosion even began."

Bad Wolf stepped closer to Oswin and held her hand. The Doctor had disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in the console room, which slowly disintegrated around them – seeping into a white light. "Where did you grow up?" Bad Wolf asked.

"Nowhere special," Oswin shrugged.

"Go on," Bad Wolf insisted.

Oswin shrugged, a smile creeping across her head as her past surfaced. "Just a little place. On of this small, intimate places where everyone knew each other. I was beautiful, though. I remember one night, I climbed out of bed in the middle of the night and looked out the bedroom window. The whole city in the distance was bathed in this orange lights, and my breath formed this halo over it. Then I looked up to the sky, and amongst all that darkness – never black, just deep blues and purples – I saw the stars. They just sat there, sparkling like the twinkle you see in someone's eye when they're about to cry. I reach out my hand, trying to touch them . . . And I've never stopped since."

Bad Wolf remained. Oswin had faded, disappearing along with the Tardis into the whiteness that surrounded her. "Ok . . ." Bad Wolf stuttered, moving her hands from where they had once met Oswins'. "Plan B."

* * *

_**Yep, Oswin's gone. But Clara will be in the next chapter! Thanks for reading :)**_


	5. He Is Not the Doctor

_**This chapters a little longer than usual, but I really hope you like it! Clara's in fatal danger . . .**_

* * *

"Poppadoms or naan?" Clara Oswald asked.

"Can't we have both?" Artie wondered.

"You could, or you could have these lovely green beans!" Clara cheered dramatically, waving a bowl of green beans under Artie's nose. "All these vitamins and minerals. Low in calories and full of vegilicious flavours!"

"Mmm . . . I think I'll have naan bread," Artie muttered, pushing the beans away from his face.

"Fine," Clara groaned, throwing the beans into the fridge. "I don't know why I try with you two. Angie! Dinner, Angie!"

"What?" Angie called, invisible from the top of the stairs.

"It's dinner, Angie! It's curry – on the table. We're waiting for you."

"I'm not eating!"

"What do you mean you're not eating?"

"Urgh!" Angie groaned, followed by a stomping down the stairs. "Did you cook?" she asked, falling into a seat by her brother.

"Yeah. My Mum's chicken curry," Clara smiled, carefully placing a large steaming pot in the middle of the table with a pair of large, fluffy gloves on her hands. "Enjoy."

"Jesus!" Angie groaned. "Not another home recipe."

"What's wrong with my cooking?" Clara protested, shocked.

"I'm counting thirty four," Artie recalled.

"What? Thirty four what, sorry?" Clara asked, a little confused as she served herself some rice and curry.

"Thirty four collapsed soufflés," Artie replied.

"_Failed _is the word you're looking for," Angie corrected him, laughing.

"Hey!" Clara gasped. "I thought we were a team, Artie."

"I have to side with my sister sometimes or she'll make my life hell on Facebook," Artie explained.

"Oh," Clara gasped, turning to Angie, "so you're _that _sort of sister, hey? You, Angie Maitland, are a cunning women," she joked.

"Yeah, alright, just curry me," Angie grinned, holding out her plate.

At that moment, the doorbell rung, making Clara jump. "Urm, I'll get that. Give me a minute. Help yourselves," Clara said, rushing to the door. "Just a minute!" she called, running back as she remembered to get the front door key. As quick as she could, she opened the lock and floor open, and a giant smile tore across her face. "Doctor!" she grinned.

The Doctor stood at the door. He wore his tweed suit, and her smiled back to his companion, a little unconvincing though. "Clara! It's nice to see you again."

"Come in. Stay for tea!" she insisted, ushering the Doctor into the Maitland house. "Look who's here, guys!" Clara called, dragging the Doctor into the kitchen.

"Doctor!" Artie smiled, jumping out of his seat to shake the Doctor's hand.

"Hey, Doctor," Angie waved from her seat.

"So, what's up with the tweed?" Clara asked.

The Doctor looked confused. "How do you mean?"

"Well, usually you have that purple coat. You gone a bit . . . Old school English teacher," Clara explained.

"I guess I needed something new," the Doctor muttered.

"Oh, ok," Clara smiled. She jumped as the timer beeped on the oven. "That'll be the naan bread," she said. As she went to get the naan bread from the oven, a blonde hair woman suddenly appeared in front of her, sitting on top of the kitchen counter. She pressed her fingers to her lips, gesturing for Clara to be quite. "Who . . .?"

"Shush!" the woman insisted. "Your name is Clara Oswald. You have to be quiet."

"How do you know my name?" Clara asked.

"What was that?" the Doctor asked Clara, a little confused.

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but noticed the same blonde haired woman standing by the Doctor with a finger on her lips. "Nothing. Just talking to myself," Clara replied. She turned back to the kitchen counter, where the woman had reappeared.

"You can't say anything," the woman insisted, "especially not to him. My name is Bad Wolf. Don't ask me anything or that creature will hear, and you're in enough danger as it is."

Clara was about to ask why, but Bad Wolf insisted that she remained silent.

"That man in at that table isn't the Doctor. He's a Zygon. You met them once before. Only you can hear me saying this, so don't say anything. At some point soon, he'll try to kill you. So follow my instructions to the letter," Bad Wolf instructed. Clara nodded. "Ok. Take the naan bread and sit at the table. Act normally."

The four of them sat around the table, digging in to the curry. Bad Wolf appeared opposite Clara, sitting next to Artie. Clara couldn't help but act a little uncomfortably around the Doctor. "Look at his hands. Subtle," Bad Wolf commanded.

Clara looked at the Doctor's hands. They were a little red.

"Do something to his hands, accidentally – watch them closely to see if a sucker emerges for a split second."

"Can I have some chutney?" Clara asked Angie. As Angie passed the jar to Clara, she let it slip from her fingers and land on the Doctor's hand. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" she apologised, pulling the jar off him, catching a glimpse of a pink sucker on the Doctor's skin. Immediately, she pulled her eyes from it to not cause suspicion.

"It's ok," the Doctor insisted.

"You see," Bad Wolf grinned. "Now that I've convinced you, I need you to get the kids out as soon as you can. Save them. You'll have moments."

Clara thought – _What do I say? _"Angie, Artie, can you go to the garden? Your dad's been growing coriander and I think it'll go well with this dish."

"Why now?" the Doctor asked, turning to her. "We're part way through a meal."

"And the coriander will make it a lot nicer," Clara insisted, panicking a little. "Go on."

Angie laughed a little. "It doesn't matter."

"Angie, please!" Clara snapped. The Doctor glared at her. Even Bad Wolf was starting to look worried.

"They don't have to go," the Doctor said.

"Yes they do," Clara insisted. "Please, just go," she pleaded to Artie, giving both of the Maitlands worried looks.

"Is something worrying you?" the Doctor asked.

"No!" Bad Wolf snapped.

"Shut up!" Clara snapped at Bad Wolf. "I can barely hear myself think with you telling me he's a Zygon every other second!" As soon as she realised what she had said, her heart raced. She was doomed.

"Run!" Bad Wolf cried.

"A Zygon?" the Doctor laughed.

"Yes. I know what you are," Clara stuttered, moving away from him. "Angie, Artie, I need you to go. Now! You can't trust him!"

The Doctor smiled . . . Suddenly, he jumped onto the table, snarling at Angie and Artie as they clung to each other in the corner of the room, backing away from him.

"RUN!" Clara screamed.

Angie and Artie tried to get out of the room, but they were trapped in the corner of the room by the Doctor. Venom leaked from his tongue, spilling out over the floor as he snarled and bared his teeth at them. "We can't move!" Angie cried, pulling her brother behind her.

"The rice bowl!" Bad Wolf cried.

Reacting quickly, Clara picked up the bowl of rice and smashed it over the Doctor's head. He recoiled in pain as he dropped to his knees. "Come on!" Clara cried, reaching her hand out to Angie.

Angie scrambled over the Doctor, clutching Clara's hand for support. Artie followed, stumbling away from the Doctor. "Take these," Clara instructed, thrusting a set of keys into Angie's hands. "Just take them and go."

"Argh!" the Doctor cried, stretching his spine as he started the move back into his feet.

"He's coming for us!" Artie gasped.

"Go!" Clara screamed, ushering Angie and Artie into the corridor. "Just go!"

Angie obeyed, pulling Artie with her down the corridor, where she unlocked the door and ran out onto the street with her brother. Clara followed, running for freedom, but the Doctor blocked her way. He grabbed her by the waist as she ran, and threw her to the floor.

"CLARA!" Angie screamed.

"JUST GO!" Clara insisted, scrambling on the floor away from the Doctor as he persuaded her.

"Oh, you pathetic little girl," the Doctor sneered, standing over her. "Of all the humans to pick, why you? River gave much more of her fight; she clawed until the very moment we took her. But you – you just scramble on the floor and look after the kids. You should've stayed on home."

"Pathetic?" Clara said, the kicked the Doctor in the shins with her heeled shoes. "You've got the wrong girl." She scurried under the kitchen table, avoiding the Doctor's hands as he snatched at her. She emerged at the other side of the table, facing into the Doctor's demonic eyes.

"How long will you last?" he thought, pressing his hands against the table. "A couple of seconds? A minute? Two at the most. I'm coming to get you, Clara!"

"Never!" she cried, throwing a knife at the Doctor's head. As he ducked, it span into the distance and buried itself into the wall. The knife may have missed, but it gave her enough time to escape into the back garden, locking the door behind her. She panicked – she was surrounded by fences as she realised that the key she would need to escape the garden was now in Angie's possession.

Clara had little time to fuss over that matter though; the Doctor, in rage, had leapt through the glass doors, falling into the garden surrounded by glass. She ran round the side of the house, where she was trapped by a tall fence, blocked her from the street. Deciding that it was her only option, she placed her hands over the top and climbed. She was nearly over, but the Doctor grabbed her ankle, and she tripped over onto the over side.

She landed on her stomach on the driveway, her hands scraped with gravel and her legs aching. Behind her, the Doctor scrambled over the fence – finding it easier as he was taller. Desperately, Clara staggered onto her feet and limped as fast as her could away from the Doctor. As the Zygon behind her dropped down onto the driveway, she broke into a run. Across the street, Angie and Artie were screaming at her, urging her to run because the Doctor could nearly reach her.

She stepped out into the road. The Doctor followed her. There was a screeching of tires as they skidded across the road. Suddenly, the Doctor was hit. He spiralled through the air, over the bonnet of a black van as it slammed its brakes down. Clara narrowly escaped death, barely seconds from also colliding with the vehicle. There was a thud as the Doctor's body landed in the road. Angie screamed.

"Oh my God!" a Welsh woman cried, jumping out of the black van. She ran to the Doctor's body and pressed her head over his chest. "Jack, he's dead!"

"Jeez!" an American in a blue coat gasped, running out beside the body. He turned to Clara, "Do you know this man?"

Clara was speechless. "Y-yes. Sorry, did you say he was dead?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry," Jack apologised.

"Don't be. He was going to kill us, I think," Clara stuttered, regaining her breath. "Thank you . . ."

"Jack Harkness," the man interrupted. "That's Gwen."

"There's a vortex manipulator on his wrist, just like yours," Gwen informed Jack.

"What?" Jack gasped in confusion. He turned to Clara, "He was going to kill you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Clara heaved.

"You wanna bet? I've got a vortex manipulator; that means I can travel through time. Seen that before, little lady?"

"All the time, and don't _little lady _me! He isn't a man; he's an alien. That is the body of a Zygon impersonating my best friend who's another alien that travels through time and space in a bow tie!" Clara cried.

"He's dead . . ." Artie stuttered.

"No, Artie. That alien is dead. The Doctor's fine," Clara insisted, holding Artie's hand.

"The Doctor?" Jack asked. "Is that man the Doctor?"

"No. That man is a Zygon," Clara corrected.

"Are you the Doctor's companion?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Clara replied.

"Jesus," Jack gasped. "So, he regenerated. Not too bad, I suppose. Anyway, I need you to come with me, and your kids too. You can trust me; I'm a friend of the Doctor."

Clara looked at Angie and Artie, then too jack, unsure of whether or not to trust him. "Ok."

"Oh my God!" a woman cried. She had ginger hair, and stumbled out of the van, as if she'd just woken up. "Did we run that man over?"

"Donna, stay calm!" Gwen insisted.

"But you just killed someone!" Donna screamed, her knees trembling. "Who the hell are you? All of you? Stay away from me!" Donna pushed past Gwen and ran down the street. "Murderers!"

"Stay with her!" Jack instructed.

"Sure!" Gwen agreed, chasing after Donna into the distance.

"Who was that?" Clara asked.

"One of the Doctor's companions," Jack informed her.

"How many does he have?" Clara gasped.

Jack pulled a worried expression, "It's probably best not to ask. Anyway, get in," he said, opening the van door. He loaded the Zygon's body into the back of the van, and once everyone was in, he drove off.

* * *

_**Thank you so much for reading! Please review or I'll be sad :(**_


	6. Under the Park

_**It's been a while, but we're finally back with Amy, Rory, Martha and Mickey. I really hope you like this, and there's a couple of revelations :)**_

* * *

Amy cowered in the corner of the dark room. Someone was approaching; she could hear footsteps. There was a bar of metal in the corner of the room, which she brandished in fear, preparing to attack.

Suddenly, the door opposite her rolled upwards. Amy tightened her grip on the bar . . . A man rolled under the door – his hair nearly white – and dressed in a tracksuit. He was breathing heavily, and seemed just as desperate as Amy to escape.

"Oh my God!" Amy gasped, clutching the man by the shoulders. "Are you alright? What are you running from?"

"Who the hell are you?" the man spat, shrugging her off.

"I could ask you the same question. What's out there?" she asked, pointing to the door.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the man said.

"Ha!" Amy laughed. "You wanna bet? You have no idea!"

"Well, don't be shocked if I don't believe you," the man smirked.

The door opposite them rolled upwards. Amy's eyes bulged as she realised what it was that appeared through the door. The large golden machines. "GET DOWN!" she screamed, tugging on the man's shoulders.

The man refused, staying on his feet. "Yeah . . . I'm not really into that girly panic thing. Let me sort this, sweet cheeks," he said with a sinister grin.

Amy watched, both amazed and confused, as the man raised an alien looking gun at the creatures that appeared through the door. He fired repetitively, destroying the creatures; smashing them open into shards of metal and fire.

Amy, moving her hands from her eyes to look at the burning creatures. She gasped. "Do you know what those are?"

"Well, I know a Dalek when I see one," the man laughed, watching the three Daleks that he'd shot burning in front of him. "New for you I'm guessing."

Putting her hands on her hips, Amy stood up against the man. "I've seen more Daleks than women you've offended with your sexism. _Girly panic thing _– I've shot dinosaurs, fought pirates and been trapped in an asylum full of more Daleks than you've ever seen in your whole life."

The man chuckled. "Ever hypnotised the planet from a phone network, been Prime Minister, fought a plastic army and brought a whole planet back from hell?"

Amy shrugged. "Ok. So you have the upper hand. Tell me your name?"

"You tell me yours," the man insisted.

"Amy Pond."

"I'm the Master," the blonde haired man said.

"Ha!" Amy laughed. "Yeah right! So what if you've just killed three Daleks, I want the truth."

"That is my name – the Master," the man insisted.

"That's like my friend; he calls himself, the Doctor," Amy recalled, smiling to herself.

"You know the Doctor," the Master gasped. For a moment he thought to himself. "Ok . . . You may be more use than I originally thought."

Amy's eyes widened. "Is it possible to sound _more _creepy?"

"Maybe," the Master sighed, then he suddenly raised his gun to Amy's forehead. "Don't do anything stupid!"

"What the hell!" Amy cried, as the Master pulled her closer. "Get off me!"

"You're going to prove useful to me, Amy Pond," the Master smiled, his eyes wide in insanity. "I want the Doctor, so if you know him, then I reckon I can get to him much quicker."

"Why do you need the Doctor?" Amy asked, not daring to resist as the Master held her.

"All he good time," he replied, whispering into her ear. "Come on," he insisted, pulling her towards the doors.

"But there are more Daleks out there!" Amy panicked.

"I know," the Master smiled, licking his lips. "This is going to be fun."

* * *

"Argh!" Martha cried, covering her ears to protect herself from the beat the four that rattled through the Tardis. "Switch it off!"

"I don't know how!" Mickey panicked, randomly flicking switches in the Tardis. Eventually, Micky pressed a button and the beat stopping ringing. He removed his hands from his ears. "I thought I was gonna be deaf for a minute then."

"I definitely remember that sound," Martha recalled, stepping around the Tardis. "That was the beat inside the Master's head. The drumming from Archangel. Do you think the Master has the Doctor?"

"From what you've told me, I hope not," Mickey replied.

"But that was definitely the sound. How? Why?" Martha asked.

Suddenly, the Tardis was rocked to a side. Mickey caught Martha's hand as they were knocked against the console. "Get to the doors!" Martha cried. Mickey ran to the doors, but they locked shut as he pulled at them, unable to escape.

"We can't get out!" Mickey gasped, falling back into Martha as the Tardis was rocked to another side. The two of them tripped over the Tardis debris and wires, eventually rolling to a halt as the ship stopped moving. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Martha stuttered, gasping for air as she crawled to her feet. "Let's try and see, hey," she said, tapping the monitor screen. On it flicked, a little blurred, but nevertheless she could see what was outside of the Tardis. "Mickey . . ." she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"What? What is it?" Mickey asked, looking at the screen. "Oh . . ." he muttered.

The Tardis had landed in a long, cave-like area, a bit jungle. But lining surrounded the Tardis was a small alien of humanoid beings, their faces covered with masks and guns at the ready.

"What do we do?" Martha asked, worry filling her eyes.

"We don't have to do anything. We could just stay here," Mickey suggested. He jumped as there was a knock at the door. "Ok . . . Now I'm not so sure."

"You decide," Martha insisted.

Mickey placed his hands on the back of his head, thinking for the best outcome, even though he would never have a clue. "Hands up."

"Why?"

"We're surrendering," Mickey had decided, putting his hands up as he led Martha to the doors.

"Are you sure?" Martha asked.

"No," Mickey said, completely honest. "We might as well though. The way I see it, we can either wait until they get in here, or we could be out there; investigate from enemy lines."

"Just like with the Doctor," Martha said, smiling a little. "Come on then, husband," she grinned, kissing Mickey on the forehead. "Let's go."

Martha and Mickey raised their hands as the cautiously stepped out of the Tardis, closing the door behind them. The army before the remained as statues, occasionally hissing and adjusting their guns to the optimum position to kill. Suppressing their inner panic, the two of them remained calm and level-headed, standing up against the aliens.

"Identify yourself by species, planet of origin and intention," Martha commanded. There was no response. "Identify!" she insisted.

An alien, similar to the others yet obviously higher ranking, slunk out of the crowd. "You are our captives; you shall reply, not us," the alien corrected. It was female, judging from the voice.

"We ain't speaking to no aliens without having names," Mickey defied.

"Oh, I think you shall," the alien hissed, suddenly pointing her gun at Martha.

"Mickey Smith and Martha Jones. Married. Humans from London, England, Earth. We got stuck inside that ship when you dragged us on board; it doesn't belong to us," Mickey cried, desperate to save Martha.

The female alien lowered her gun. "So you were stealing it?"

"No," Mickey replied.

"Yet you've taken it from the owner without permission to do so and have made no effort to return it. Perhaps a dictionary would prove useful," the alien hissed.

"Yeah, but it wasn't our fault. If anything we were abducted," Mickey complained.

The woman hissed, drawing in a deep breath.

"So tell us: who are you?" Martha asked.

Slowly, the alien removed her mask. She was a creature, a mix of reptile and human, with scale covered skin and a fanged tongue, which made Martha and Mickey's jaws drop. "I am Commander Vesper of the sixth Silurian Arc. This is my army, and you are on my ship."

"Ok . . ." Mickey stuttered, a little shocked.

* * *

"Why are you here? How are you here?" Rory asked, wiping his forehead of sweat as the room grew increasingly hot.

"Journalism," Sarah Jane replied, shaking off her jacket. "I came here for a report, when suddenly I couldn't help but fall asleep. I woke up here without a clue how long I'd been sleeping. Last night there has this almighty crash, and in the morning they dragged you in here."

"Who's _they_?"

Sarah Jane pursed her lips, looking up to the ceiling as if she was holding in a terrible secret. "And old enemy of mine," she replied, feigning a smile to Rory.

"So this is like some really over the top revenge?" Rory wondered, a little confused.

"No. Not for their standards. No, this is just normal. Well . . . Judging from the handy choice of location, I'm sure there's more to come."

"Choice of location?"

"Rory Williams, do you have no idea of what is above us?"

"Not really . . . If you had a map that would help."

Sarah Jane let out a small chuckle then turned deadly serious. "We are under Yellowstone National Park."

"Yellowstone National Park – America," Rory clarified.

"Exactly," Sarah Jane nodded. "Also as in, Yellowstone Park – world's biggest super volcano."

"Ah!" Rory sighed, hitting his head back against the wall of the cave. "That'll explain the heat. So who is it? You said this was done by an old enemy: who?"

Just as Sarah Jane was about to answer, footstep filled the cave. Everyone in the room screamed, cowering away from the passage that led into it. Even Sarah Jane stuttered a little, moving closer to Rory who looked about, confused.

"Do not resist! You will be upgraded!" a Cyberman chanted, stepping into the room with several others flanking it. "You will be processed and upgraded to the Cyberiad!"

"Cyberman," Rory gasped.

"You've seen them before?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Ascend," a Cyberman instructed, looming above Sarah and Rory.

"Do as it says," Sarah Jane insisted, urging Rory to stand.

"Follow. You will be upgraded," the Cyberman commanded pointing its armed gun at Sarah and Rory.

"Yes. You don't need the gun; we'll follow," Sarah snapped.

She and Rory, along with the rest of the group, we dragged along by the Cybermen through tunnels under the park. Some people broke down, falling to their knees in tears or attempting to attack them despite their wrists being bound.

"Upgrade means turn-us-into-Cyberman, I'm guessing?" Rory confirmed.

"Judging from context, I'd say yes. We've got to get these people out!"

"We need to get these wrist things off."

"Ok . . ." Sarah Jane said, thinking.

* * *

**_I really hope you liked this chapter! Please review :) I'll add another chapter soon (how will Rory and Sarah escape?) _**


	7. Escape

_**Another chapter! Sorry for not updating quicker, but there's a lot more going on in this one. It continues from the last chapter. I hope you like it :)**_

* * *

"Stay back a moment," Sarah whispered, holding Rory by the arm and pulled him aside as the group continued past him. "I've got something in my top right pocket. Could you get it?"

Checking that no Cybermen were watching, Rory reached into Sarah's inside pocket, awkwardly trying to manoeuvre with his hands bonded. "I've . . . Hold one . . . Got it," he smiled, pulling a small object from Sarah's pocket. "What is it?"

"Lipstick. Aim it at the lock," Sarah instructed, holding out her wrists in front of Rory. "Press it."

"Lipstick? What, do you want me to stop the lock from getting chapped lips?" Rory joked, removing the top of the lipstick and aiming it. He pressed, making the end of the lipstick shine, and the lock on Sarah's hands opened.

"It's sonic," Sarah corrected, taking the lipstick and unlocking Rory.

"What do we do now?" Rory asked.

"Find a way to get everyone out, and quick; the Cybermen will be converting, or _upgrading _as they say, any time soon. Keep yo0ur wrists together, like you've still got your locks on," Sarah decided, drawing up a plan.

"Ok," Rory nodded. "A plan . . . An escape," he muttered to himself as Sarah dragging him back into the rest of the group as they were led along through the caves. "Hold on, if we're underground near a magma chamber, how come we're not boiling to death or choking from the lack of oxygen?"

"Rory Williams, you genius!" Sarah smiled. "There must be some sort of piping or ventilation."

"We're escaping through ventilation shafts?" Rory said, laughing a little. "Now that sounds like a good plan."

"Well, maybe not ventilation shafts but there'll be some way out."

The marching ended as the group were stopped by the Cybermen in front of a large set of metal doors. There were worried whispers, and sobbing in the corner, as the doors opened. A deep red light spilled out from the room on the other side, along with the grinding of metal and the flashing of sparks. Gazing in fear, the group was led into the room, hit by the heat and sound. Throughout the large room, the size of a school hall, were glass, translucent cubicles. Above the cubicles were metal devices, fitted with blades and saws and medical equipment. The room was filled with a gasp.

"We have to act soon," Rory decided.

"No! Get off me! Let me go you monsters!" a woman screamed as a Cyberman forced her into a cubicle. Six others were also pushed into cubicles, screaming and kicking in protest as they were forced in.

"Upgrading shall commence," the Cybermen said, placing their fists on the side of the pods to activate them. The whirring of the metal devices began.

"Come on," Sarah quietly willed, vigorously searching the room with her eyes.

"There!" Rory cried, having to be reminded to stay silent, nodding towards a vent at the side of the room, man-sized, that led deeper into the volcano. "I'm not sure where it'll come out, but it's a start. There's no orange light from it, so I'm guessing it doesn't lead straight into the magma chamber."

"Great work," Sarah gleamed, quickly wiping the smile from her face. The metal devices began to descend, spinning and slicing as the trapped victims screamed.

"Quick. We need a distraction," Rory thought to himself.

"Easily done," Sarah grinned. She raised her sonic lipstick and aimed it at the cubicles. The doors to them were flung open as the victims escaped, a couple knocking the Cybermen to a side in the confusion. "Rory, open the vent!" Sarah instructed, running to free as many captives as she could with her sonic lipstick.

Rory ran to the vent, dodging bolts of Cyber guns as they were shot randomly over his head. Several people had already been freed, and ran to help Rory pulled the metal bars from the ground. As soon as they succeeded, they scurried down into the passageway beneath the room like mice. Rory looked up, watching as Sarah ran throughout the chaos, using the lipstick to cause distractions as she unlocked the bonds on the prisoners hands. "SARAH!" Rory cried, itching to leave the room as quick as possible.

Sarah, finishing her work, ran towards Rory. "Get down!" she cried as she approached. Rory did as she instructed and descended through the vents into a small metal passageway, having to crouch down. There was an explosion and a spark of light above him as Sarah slithered down beside him. The prisoners were scattered about fussing over which direction to turn, left or right, leaving some to wander off, just wanting to leave.

"Which way?" Rory asked.

"Why should I know?" Sarah retorted.

Cybermen chanted above him, "Upgrade has been cancelled. Locate the prisoners."

"I don't care, we just need to go," Rory said, worrying.

"Right," Sarah decided spontaneously.

"Ok," Rory agreed. "Go, go, go!" he cried, ushering the prisoners to start running. No-one knew what they were doing; they just shuffled down the passageway. "Quicker!" Rory persisted, getting them to a near running pace.

Behind them, Cybermen descended into the passageway. Those who had turned left were trapped, screaming as the nightmares in silver approached, doomed for an upgrade as the others fled for escape.

* * *

Martha and Mickey were led by the Silurian Commander into a large room. The entire ship seemed to be made from organic materials, with pits of plants and rocks intertwining with wires and technology. In the room, there was a large window, looking out over a glittering sun, shining out through the black expanse that surrounded it.

"Space then," Mickey nodded, stepping towards the window, hiding his delight.

Martha laughed a little, "I'd almost forgotten views like these. It's beautiful. Pure beautiful."

"Don't get too attached," Commander Vesper hissed stepping over to a control desk where several other Silurians were busily working. "Can someone contain the apes."

Two Silurians stepped forwards and grabbed Martha and Mickey, securing their hands with a set of odd-looking handcuff before pushing them down into seats in the corner of the room.

"So, where about are we?" Martha asked.

"Section twenty: interior control. This section of the arc monitors the movements of personnel, objects or other interior factors that can be monitored, liking opening doors or air locks," one of the Silurians replied, fixing glasses on its nose.

"And vermin, like yourselves," Commander Vesper snarled, patrolling the room in front of Martha and Mickey. "Why did you try to steal the Tardis?" Vesper asked.

"We weren't trying to . . . Wait. You said Tardis. How did you know that it's the Tardis?" Martha inquired.

Vesper laughed a little. "We met the Doctor once . . . A long time ago," she explained, gazing out into the stars, along dreaming as she talked. "We woke from out of the ground, and when we burrowed to the surface we were met by the Doctor and his companions. And he was so . . ."

"Inspirational," Martha suggested.

"He was a monster," Vesper snapped, all looks of wonder burning into fury. "He preached peace and tolerance, yet he killed one of our own and froze us beneath the soil for another thousand years. We could've co-operated. We could've thrived and yet he disappointed. Our species was stunted for a thousand years, and now we're back, and we want revenge. We can tolerate you apes, but we want the Doctor. We want revenge!"

"We know the Doctor; he wouldn't do that on purpose. He must've been trying to help," Martha said, defending her friend.

Vesper only shrugged. "Helping the human race, as usual. Don't you think it's time that he realised that this game he's playing affects everyone? He will choose to save humanity over and over, but at some point he'll have to accept that it's time that someone else had the advantage. On that day, we should've been prioritized, but no, he saved the humans first."

"So why do you want us?" Mickey asked. "We weren't there; we have nothing to do with this."

"Don't worry, we won't take our revenge on you," Vesper assured, "but like I said, we want the Doctor, and we will stop at nothing to get him. You can either help us, or hinder us, and we won't stand for the second. So what's it going to be?"

Martha and Mickey exchanged looks, and without saying a word they agreed.

"No!" Martha snapped. "The Doctor is our friend, so don't expect us to just hand him over. We're not the betraying kind."

"Yeah, Silurians. Go find another companion, but don't expect us to help," Mickey added in defiance.

Vesper flared her nostrils, drawing in a cold breath. She stepped toe-to-toe with Mickey, inspecting him with a keen as eye she move her nose to the point where it nearly touched his. Then she hissed, "I will give you one last chance."

"No chance," Mickey insisted, then he hit his forehead against Vesper's, knocking her to the floor as she fell unconscious.

Martha gasped. "What the hell?" Then she realised that the two Silurians in the room had spotted what had happened. "Get down!" Martha cried. The two of them fell on a side, their hands still trapped by the handcuffs, as they dodged the bolts of light that the Silurians fired at them. "What do we do?" Martha panicked.

"Vesper's gun!" Mickey cried. "Your closest!"

Martha, accurately judging when best to reach for the gun, snatched the device from Vesper's waist. She panicked, letting it slip through her hands, before eventually securing it in the correct grip. She fired: she missed first, then hit the first Silurian in the shoulder, two more stray fires, then the next two Silurians in the thigh and chest. They fell to the floor, not dead but idle.

"Good one," Mickey complimented.

Martha was still gasping. "I never thought I'd have to do that again . . ." Suddenly a siren wailed. "We have to get out!"

"Come on then," Mickey agreed, helping Martha off the floor as they scrambled from the room.

* * *

Amy didn't dare to fight against the Master; he kept his Dalek gun still aimed at her head. He pulled her along the dark corridors of the Dalek ship, unhinged by the continuing threat that surrounded them. "Where are you taking me?" Amy dared to ask.

"Why should I know; it's my plan? Somewhere, I guess. Or something; I could take you to something or someone. Either way, I'm taking you to 'some'," the Master thought, not making any sense.

"You're crazy," Amy muttered.

"So it would seem. There's not much evidence to defend myself, so I might as well go along with it," the Master agreed, not quite getting involved in the conversation; his head was too focused on the task ahead of him.

"I still don't actually get why you're doing this. Do I get an explanation?"

"Maybe. Probably."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"I won't tell you. You wouldn't understand if I told you."

"I'm smarter than you think," Amy insisted.

"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. You see, I'm going to show you instead of telling you," the Master explained, a grin splitting across his face.

"Yeah, and how are you going to do that?"

"Like so." The Master dragged Amy through a set of doors, where they entered a large room. The two of them appeared on a large platform, suspended high above the ground where beneath and around them, stood hundreds and thousands of Daleks. Amy gasped, attempting to slither out of the Master's grip before she realised that he had a gun to her head. There were so many, glittering with a gold and a malevolent blue light.

"Intruders detected! Exterminate them! Exterminate! Exterminate!" the Daleks cried, aiming their guns at Amy and the Master.

"Not so fast!" the Master cried, firing a warning shot.

"You are intruders! You must be exterminated!"

"Oh, you silly little pepper pots, just listen!" the Master snapped. The Daleks fell silent. "Daleks, I have a proposition to make."

"Speak!" a Dalek insisted.

"This is a full-sized Dalek ship, and on every ship there is a Dalek vault. You have an object in your vaults that I want. I am prepared to make an offer with you to get it."

"But you are just one. We are many. You can gather any object that we desire. You will be exterminated!"

Before the Daleks fired, the Master raised a flashing device in the palm of his hand. "This is a bomb, Daleks. Inside it is a warp star, ready to shred this entire ship open unless you co-operate. Fire, and I will have enough time to destroy you all." The Daleks moved back from the Master.

"Please don't bring me into this," Amy begged.

"Tough look, sweet cheeks," the Master grinned. He announced the Daleks, "Inside your vaults is a White Point Star. I want it. In return, I will allow your continued existence and offer you this rather fetching gun," the Master said.

"Offer decline. You will be exterminated!" a Dalek cried.

Immediately, the Master fired at the Dalek, shattering its head open into flames. "Anyone else?" the Master shrugged, waving his gun in front of the Daleks. There was silence. "I thought not. Take me to your vaults!"

* * *

_**Anyone remember the White Point Star? I hoped you enjoyed this, and I will update soon. Please review :)**_


	8. In the Shop Window

_**Hi! New chapter! SOrry it's been a while, but I've been really busy on other writing projects that had to take priority. Anyway, I hope you really like this. Enjoy!**_

* * *

The Doctor fell to his knees, gasping and heaving. A web of pink tentacles were wrapped around his neck, which had previously tangled around his body and pinned him to the wall. He undid the bonds around him and scrambled to his feet, still gasping for breath.

"Woken up, I see," smirked River Song (the Zygon) stepping beside the Doctor's body. "What happened there then?"

The Doctor wheezed. He looked up into the Zygon's eyes and replied, "It died."

"What?" River stuttered, kneeling down to the Doctor's level. "He died? How?"

"He was hit by a car," the Doctor replied.

"A car . . ." River stuttered. "Ok. We'll have to make new arrangements for our plan then."

"What plan?" the Doctor asked. "Why here? Why the Second World War? This has to mean something!"

River smiled a little. "You want to know our plan? Ha! Why explain our plan? So you can find a way of beating us? I think not," River laughed, stepping away from the Doctor.

"Why Clara?" the Doctor cried, still gasping on the ground. "Who even is she? Who were those children? Why her?"

River stopped. Slowly, she turned her head around towards the Doctor. "Spoilers."

"Don't you dare!" the Doctor snapped, crawling to his feet. "How dare you use her voice!"

"It's in my head. It belongs to me. Get used to it, Sweetie," River smirked. "Come," she said, pulling the Doctor by the arm. "We need to find a use for you."

* * *

"Sarah!" Rory cried, scrambling through the tunnels as the Cybermen approached.

"There's a light up ahead!" Sarah said, ahead of Rory as they led the other prisoners from the Cyber base.

"Hurry up!" Rory worried; he could hear metal behind him.

Sarah Jane reached a ladder at the end of the tunnel. The pointed her sonic lipstick to the metal plate at the top of the steps, making it click open and roll to the side, letting a bright orange light spill out from above them. "Go! Go!" she cried, ushering the prisoners up it.

"Hurry up!" Rory screamed again as the Cyberman grew closer.

"Come on, Rory!" Sarah insisted, leaping up onto the steps, beginning to climb.

Rory followed her. Beneath them, a swarm of Cybermen appeared. They shot at Rory, only just missing, before chasing them up. Rory and Sarah panicked, climbing as fast as they could away from the Cybermen. The Cybermen were fast, though.

Eventually, Rory and Sarah spilled out onto the surface of the Earth. Finally, they could see the sun, shining above them, and the fresh air that lingered amongst the tall grass and trees.

"Out the way!" Sarah cried, pulling Rory away from the exit so that she could lock it shut with her sonic. The metal plate slid over the exit, trapping the Cybermen before they could reach the surface.

"Jesus!" Rory gasped, collapsing to the ground.

"Come on. Get up!" Sarah beckoned, pulling Rory off the ground. "That won't stop the Cybermen. They be out in moments!"

"Ok. Come on," Rory agreed, leading Sarah out into the park. "Run!" Rory cried to the other prisoners. "Go!"

"Get out of the park!" Sarah cried. "Go home!"

Like Rory and Sarah, the prisoners just ran, hurrying to get to safety.

"Where do we go?" Rory asked.

"I don't know. Visitor centre?"

"Ok. We'll make a plan from there. But I need to find my friend; he'll be able to help," Rory explained.

Sarah chuckled to herself a little. "I doubt many people could help us with this. I used to know a man who could, but he's long since gone. I know a group of people in the UK that could help, but the Cybermen took my phone."

"So we're trapped here?" Rory stuttered.

"We just need to find a way to communicate with the outer world. You don't have to, Rory. This must be so unusual for you – I understand. If you want I could give you some numbers; people to help you get used to this."

"Ha! Trust me, this is just every day. Wanna know a secret? I've met the Cybermen before," Rory grinned.

"What?" Sarah gasped. "How come?"

"The friend I mentioned – he can travel through time and space," Rory explained.

"Oh," Sarah muttered, smiling. "I once knew a man who could do that too. He used to travel around in a blue box."

"The Doctor!" Rory gasped.

"You know the Doctor?"

"You knew the Doctor?"

"Yes!" Sarah cried. "I was his companion."

"I am his companion."

"Oh . . . Getting younger I see," Sarah smiled. "He was always one for women, but I see that he has . . . A new taste."

"Oh. It's not like that!" Rory insisted. "My wife, Amy, travels with us. I'm more of the third wheel that fits in surprisingly well."

"That's nice," Sarah smiled. "Could you contact him?"

Rory checked his pockets. "Sorry. No phone."

"Ok. We need to get to some sort of centre."

"Yeah, before we get eaten alive by bears," Rory frowned.

"Exactly. Come on," Sarah decided, pulling Rory along.

* * *

"Donna!" Gwen called, chasing after Donna through a town centre, past shops and markets.

"Stay away from me!" Donna threatened, storming away from her.

"Donna! You need to come back!" Gwen insisted.

"Ha!" Donna laughed. "No way. I don't trust you."

"But, Donna!" Gwen pleaded, grabbing Donna's arm.

"NO!" Donna snapped, pushing Gwen off her. "You ran over that man. You hit him with your car and killed him. Yet you're not even affected. Look at me -I'm crying and I'm innocent."

"Donna, you have to believe me when I say that that wasn't even a real man," Gwen begged. "He was going to kill that girl and many more if he had the chance."

"Oh, and I expect you're such an expert!" Donna glared.

"Yes I am!" Gwen snapped. "Sorry," she apologised.

"Yeah? You should be," Donna hissed, then continued to walk up the street.

"Donna!" Gwen called. "I'd get it if you didn't trust me, but let me walk with you."

"No way!" Donna called back.

"I recon you want to," Gwen said. Donna stopped walking. "I recon that there's a little part of you in your head that says that you trust me; that we've met before and I tried to help."

Donna took in a deep breath, resisting the urge to cry. "Really?"

"Almost certain," Gwen replied, smiling a little.

Donna shrugged. "Ok then. If you insist."

"Thank you," Gwen nodded, stepping beside Donna. "Talk about whatever you want. I'll just listen."

"I don't think I want to say much," Donna shrugged, walking with Gwen up the street, passing shops.

"Really? How's life?"

"Normal, I guess. Nothing special."

"I don't believe you. I doubt there's any such thing as normal."

"Well, you'd be surprised," Donna laughed. Suddenly, she stopped, in the middle of the street.

"What?" Gwen worried. "What is it Donna?"

"Look," Donna said, pointing to a shop window. Donna led Gwen towards a small bookshop at the other side of the street. Donna pressed a palm against the glass, peering in at a specific book on display. It was a small book, title: 'A Journal of Impossible Things'.

* * *

"We need to get out of here!" Martha cried, following Mickey as they two of them ran through the Silurian Arc, as sirens wailed around them. "We're the Tardis when you need it!"

"Come on!" Mickey said, pulling Martha through the ship.

Martha pressed button, opening up into a separate passageway. "Through here!" Martha insisted, leading Mickey. Footsteps marched behind them as the door sealed shut behind them.

"What's through here?" Mickey muttered.

"Down here!" Martha cried.

Mickey noticed what Martha was pointing to – an escape pod. "Yes," Mickey laughed, pulling Martha into the airlock. One the other side of the door, the Silurians marched towards them.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" Martha panicked.

"Hold on a minute!" Mickey insisted, watching the screen to the side of them count up to 100% completion. "Ok. Now!" Mickey cried, pulling open the doors to the escape pod for Martha to climb into.

"Get the apes!" Vesper snarled, banging on the door to the air lock. "Someone open the doors!"

Mickey closed the door to the escape pod behind him, sealing them into the small, circular space. The escape pod was tiny; one rigid bench and a screen with a keypad. There was a dark green light, and what seemed to be roots grew from the top of the pod.

"How do we get out?" Mickey panicked.

"Hold on," Martha muttered, searching through the keypad, "I've been in escape pods before. Let me just remember."

"I don't won't to hurry you but . . ." Mickey trailed off as Vesper and the Silurians finally forced their way through the airlock.

"One second!" Martha insisted, clicking buttons at the keypad. "Ok. We need twenty seconds for force stabilisation."

"We need to go now!" Mickey cried.

"Go now and the pod will be shot out into space without any control!" Martha replied.

"Just do it!" Mickey insisted.

For a moment, Martha considered her options, then agreed with Mickey that they didn't have time. She firmly pressed a large button, and the pod was flung out into space, sucking the Silurians with them . . .

Immediately, the two of them were silenced. The escape pod was hurtled through space, so fast that the Silurian Arc had disappeared into the distance within seconds. Martha and Mickey were flung through the pod, spinning and tumbling. The stars and sun spun around them, plunging them into disorientation and confusion as the pod continued to hurtle out into the distance.

"Oh no!" Martha cried, staring out of the window.

"What is it?" Mickey gasped, falling onto his back as the pod spun.

"It's the Tardis!" Martha cried.

Mickey looked out the window, noticing the small blue box that seemed to hurtle towards them. "Hold on!" Mickey cried, pulling Martha closely as the two ships collided. The pod rocked, spinning out into the darkness as the Tardis disappeared from time and space . . .

* * *

The Doctor was led by River into a large office, surrounded by Nazi flags. He was sat down in a leather chair as two other Zygons entered the room, surrounding him.

"What am I here for?" the Doctor worried, watching the Zygons snarl around him.

"I thought it was worth getting your blood boiling," River grinned, sitting on a large desk. "Want to see? Come on in!"

The Doctor, watched, in horror, as the door at the end of the room opened. In stepped a man in military uniform, and a Nazi strap around his arm. His hair was black and well combed, and along with a moustache. The Doctor's jaw dropped.

"Hello, Doctor," the man said in a German accent.

"Hitler . . ." the Doctor stuttered in fear.

* * *

_**Ooh! Hitler's a Zygon! What could this plan be? And what will happen to Martha and Mickey, trapping in an escape pod as they tumble to space. And how will Sarah Jane and Rory escape the park?**_


	9. Welcome to Torchwood

_**Hey! I hope you like this chapter, please review :)**_

* * *

Gwen followed Donna into the bookshop. A scent of coffee lingered from the café and cake stall in the bookshop. In the centre of the bookshop was a display, where 'A Journal of Impossible Things' was placed at the top.

"Donna, I don't think you should look at that book," Gwen warned.

"But . . . I don't what it is but there's something about it," Donna muttered, mesmerised by the book.

"Donna! It could trigger one of your fits!" Gwen worried, trying to pull Donna back.

"Get off," Donna muttered, shrugging Gwen off her as she picked up the book. Slowly, she flicked through the pages – drawings of plastic men and fob watches and pretty women and blue boxes. "It's . . . Why does it look so familiar?"

"Donna, look away."

"No. They look so . . ." Donna stammered, looking through even more drawings of children in gas masks and ten faces of the same man. "They're so real. It's a book. Fiction. But it's real. I know it's real. This all exists!"

"No it doesn't!" Gwen insisted.

"Don't tell me that. I know it does . . . There's a name," Donna realised. "There's a name I need to know . . . Such an important name . . . The Doctor."

* * *

Martha and Mickey remained trapped in their escape pod, tumbling through space. The pod was getting cold, the only window beginning to frost over a little. Their breaths formed crystallised clouds.

"So – we're just trapped here," Martha shrugged. "Floating out into space. No control."

"Can't we steer this or something?" Mickey wondered, looking through the buttons.

"Martha shook her head. "It's an escape pod; designed so we just drift until someone picks us up or we land."

"And if no-one saves us?"

"What do you think?" Martha sobbed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"No. Don't think that babe cos it ain't gonna happen," Mickey insisted, sitting by Martha as he hugged her.

"What's the point?" Martha shrugged. "We can wait here until we starve to death, or freeze to death or the oxygen runs out. Either way we're doomed."

"Don't think like that. Someone'll help us. Maybe the Doctor, maybe someone else, but either way we'll be helped."

"We'd better hope," Martha said, managing a little smile. "Look out there," Martha grinned, pointing to a far out constellation, glittering with purple light. "Now _that _is why I travelled with the Doctor. Not the monsters or the danger, but the beautiful – all the worlds and the creatures and the culture. It's fantastic!"

"Yeah," Mickey agreed holding Martha. "What do you think happened to the Tardis?"

"Maybe when we hit it, it was flung back to us," Martha thought. "By hitting it, we made this whole thing happen."

"But that would mean the Doctor could be anywhere," Mickey realised. "If the Tardis was flung out through time, then where's he, and whichever companion he's got now?"

"He'll help us," Martha said, nodding her head. "We may just be a couple in a long line, or just the second best, but he'll help us. I trust him."

"Me too. He was always obsessed with Rose."

"Same here. To a life without Rose and the Doctor!" Martha laughed, high-fiving Mickey. "At least our relationship came out of that. The aftermath, you could say."

"The best aftermath ever," Mickey joked.

Martha rested her head on Mickey's chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, babes."

* * *

The Torchwood van parked in the small parking space of a large building. It was a normal building – full of offices. The parking space was dark with a couple of flickering overhead lights. Out stepped Jack, Clara, Angie and Artie, slamming the doors shut behind them.

"Is this it?" Angie asked, a little disappointed. "Is this Torchwood?"

"Ha!" Jack laughed. "No way. This is the Black Demon Industries office block"

"Then why are we here?" Clara asked.

"Oh. You'll see," Jack teased. "Come on, follow me."

Jack opened up the back doors of the van and took out the limp, unmoving body of the Zygon-Doctor. He rested the Doctor's arm over his shoulder and carried him to the lift.

"You can't just walk about like that!" Clara cried. "People'll ask why you're caring a dead, bleeding body."

"So what? You'd be surprised how people will choose to overlook things," Jack pointed out, pressing the button to call the lift.

"Even still, it's weird," Clara said, turning up her nose.

"Weird is what we deal with," Jack smiled.

The lift pinged as the doors opened. Jack stepped in first, having to urge the others to follow. Just as the doors closed, a man jumped into the lift with them. He was a normal guy, in a suit and in a bit of a shambles as he pressed the button for the sixth floor. When he noticed Jack hold a dead body, he steps back a little in confusion.

"Oh. Don't worry," Jack laughed. "Say hi to my brother. He got drunk last night and's a bit . . . Under the weather, you might say."

"Ok . . ." the man stuttered, not entirely convinced. "And the blood?"

"Pub brawl," Clara quickly replied, smiling awkwardly to the man.

The man still looked incredibly confused, and a little scared. Behind his back, he furiously clicked at the lift buttons. "Actually . . . I think this floor'll do," he stammered. The lift wouldn't open, so he resorted to trying to prize the doors open. The others watched in wonder as the man was driven mad, before eventually just jumping out of the lift at the next possible floor.

"Should we be worrying about him?" Clara asked.

"Na," Jack shrugged. "I'll get someone to spike his drink with Retcon."

"Isn't that illegal?" Artie inquired.

"Quite possibly," Jack agreed. "Anyway – to Torchwood."

Jack pressed the button floor the basement floor and immediately an electronic voice announced that access for the basement was unauthorised. Jack removed a tag from his pocket and held it to the button for the basement floor, causing a blue light from the door to scan Jack's eyes. The electronic voice spoke again: "Access granted". Shuddering, the lift hurtled down to the basement floor, when it suddenly stopped, causing Clara to nearly trip.

Jack grinned. "Make sure your jaws don't hit the floor too hard."

The doors to the lift parted, revealing the Torchwood Hub. The Hub was giant – at least three floors tall and just as wide, with a floor made out of slate. There were four computers in a row, facing into a circular pool of water. There were a couple of offices and large metal doors leading to vaults and cellars. A large pillar ran through the centre, buzzing with electricity.

"This is amazing!" Artie gasped, stepping into the Hub.

"This is alright, I guess!" Angie laughed, clearly awestruck.

"Wow!" Clara gleamed. "Just wow!"

"Anyone's jaws hurting?" Jack joked. "This is the Hub. From here we monitor any unusual or alien happenings on Earth. We keep records of sightings, gather extra-terrestrial artefacts and contain any aliens that we can't return."

"Yeah. And we work our butts off every day to save your asses," Rex moaned appearing from behind a computer. "I'm Rex. Welcome to the Hub."

"I'm Clara," Clara greeted him, holding out her hand.

"Clara Oswald, right?" Rex remembered, shaking her hand. "And the Maitland kids."

"How do you . . .?" Clara began to ask.

"We keep a close eye on all of the Doctor's companions," Jack answered.

"A little creepy, but I can live with it," Clara shrugged.

"What the hell is that on your shoulder?" Rex asked, gesturing to Jack.

"Oh – just a Zygon impersonating the Doctor," Jack replied, "we'll need to store it in a vault."

"That's not how I imagined the Doctor looking," Rex said.

"He must have regenerated," Jack guessed.

"That aside, what do we do now?" Clara asked. "That Zygon specifically came for me; why?"

"Good question. She's better than the Welsh girl," Rex joked.

"I dunno," Jack confessed. "But if the Zygon's can impersonate the Doctor, then they must have captured him."

"How do we find the Zygons?" Clara asked. "I've met them before, but they were in Elizabethan England."

"They could be anywhere," Jack frowned.

"But I think I know how to find out," Rex smiled.

"How?" Jack inquired.

"This," Rex replied, holding up a plain DVD. "Emergency protocol files. I was looking over it earlier and I think it might hold the answer."

"How come?" Clara asked, intrigued.

Rex explained. "All over the country, there are people that have met the Doctor, are learning about him or collect files about his travels to Earth. On this disc, there's a whole list of people who we can contact. There's a couple not far from here that've met the Doctor and have files worth of information about him, and I think they might have information specific to this event."

"Ok. Amazing. How do we find them?" Clara asked.

"I've already set the Sat-Nav to their location."

"Good," Jack smiled. "I want you to put the Zygon in a vault . . ."

"And look after the kids while we're gone," Clara added.

"What?" Angie complained. "We have to stay here!"

"Yes. I've already put you two in enough danger already today," Clara replied.

"How come I have to do the babysitting?" Rex argued.

"Because I'm taking Clara to meet this couple," Jack replied. "Come on, Clara."

"Be nice to the kids!" Clara called as Jack pulled her to the lift.

Rex was left on his own, facing the Angie and Artie in an awkward silence. "So . . . What do you guys wanna do?"

"Can you explain some of your technology?" Artie requested.

Rex groaned. "This is gonna be one long hell of a day."

* * *

"Hitler . . ." the Doctor gasped.

"I knew his face would look like that," River laughed.

"So is this your plan?" the Doctor muttered. "You kill millions of people. Millions of innocent people. Six million in the Holocaust alone. You make me sick!"

River shuck her head. "You may not have realised it, but even us Zygons have a scrap of decently. That man makes us sick too. The camps opened years ago – we have no influence over them."

"Then why are you here?" the Doctor asked.

"That's enough for you to know," Hitler snapped.

"Surely you'll know that I'll have to stop you anyway," the Doctor warned them.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" River laughed.

"Like so," the Doctor grinned. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and aimed it at the chandelier above him. Immediately, he dived to a side, dodging the falling glass that fell on top of the Zygons in the room. Taking advantage of the situation, he ran.

The Doctor slipped through a door and into a long, muddy corridor that led under the battlefield. He ran – rocked every other moment as the bombs erupted above him. Rubble fell from the mud ceiling and the corridor blazed with orange light.

Eventually, the Doctor emerged in the first room that he'd been taken to. He stepped towards the red curtain, and swept it to a side, revealing the body of the real river Song, tangled in red Zygon webbing. Carefully, the Doctor removed the webbing, pulling it from River before letting it drop to the floor.

"River . . ." the Doctor muttered, tapping River on the cheek as he pulled her from the webbing, resting her on the floor. "River? River, can you hear me?"

Slowly, River started to come around, her eyelids fluttering. "Doctor?" she whispered, opening her eyes to the Doctor's smiling face.

The Doctor smiled, laughing a little. "River."

"Hello sweetie," River grinned.

"Nice to meet you," the Doctor said, before pulling her onto her feet. "Let's go."

"Why? What's going on?" River asked, confused.

"Zygons. Come on, sweetie!"

* * *

_**I hope you liked that! Does Black Demon have something to do with what's happening? And what is the Zygon plan? Please review. Some answers could be answered next time, but to be honest I don't have a clue :) And on my profile page, you can choose a classic companion to appear in this story! Vote before 10th June!**_


	10. The Past Connection

**_Hi! I hope you like this one; it's starts to delve into one of the bigger plot points as some companions start to team up. And visit my profile page to vote on a classic era companion to be in the series (I have a plan) :)_**

* * *

"Here we are," Jack announced, parking the Torchwood van along a quiet street – a couple of old book and DVD shops, a chippy and a Chinese restaurant. "And I think I remember why."

"Here?" Clara asked in confusion.

"Yeah," Jack clarified.

"But it's so . . . It's just ordinary," Clara explained, still disappointed.

"Exactly. It's secrete."

"I was expecting some fancy palace or underground trading operations. Not take-out and cash machines!"

"Oh well. This is where we need to be," Jack shrugged, stepping out the car and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hold on!" Clara called, following him out the van. "You said that you remembered why we were here; what does that mean?"

Jack giggled to himself. "Timelines, Clara. My past affecting what's happening now."

"Ok. A little less cryptic?"

"A very long time ago, I was told to come here. I was given specific instructions," Jack recalled.

"By who?" Clara inquired.

"I dunno," Jack muttered. "Some young guy and what seemed to be his girlfriend. An odd couple but sweet."

"And how about you? Do you often find yourself in relationships?" Clara asked, coming off as a little flirtatious.

"Oh, they never last that long," Jack shrugged.

"How long?"

"Just a night."

"Ew!" Clara grimaced, feeling a little disturbed. "Those poor women."

"Who said anything about women?" Jack teased.

Clara was left a little stunned. "Ok."

"Here we are!" Jack announced, gesturing to a small DVD shop along the street. "Sparrow and Nightingale!" he declared, reading the name above the shop.

"Sparrow and Nightingale," Clara nodded. "So what are we here for?"

"To collect something," Jack replied, leading Clara into the shop.

The two of them entered the DVD shop. It was a small, independent business, with cheaply printed movie posters on the windows and aisles of DVDs on shelves. There was on old TV that hung from the wall at the back of the shop, in the perfected viewing position for the girl that sat at the till. She was young – nearly in her thirties but still very pretty – with brown hair that waved over her cardigan.

"Hello. Can I help you?" the girl asked, taking her chin off her sleeve and smiling.

"Erm, Sally Sparrow, right?" Jack clarified.

Sally stood up from her seat, a little worried. "How do you know my name?"

"I was told to find you. We're from Torchwood," Jack said, holding up his credentials and gesturing to the van outside.

Sally smiled a little. "Ok. That'll do. And I think I know why," she said, wagging her finger as she began to remember. "Come round the back. I've got something for you."

Jack and Clara followed Sally around the till and into the back room. The back room was cluttered, with DVD cases and plastic folders littered over the coffee table, and a TV in the corner. There was, however, a large wall covered with pictures and maps, like a stereotypical sort of investigation.

As Clara inspected the investigation wall, she began to notice what common link: "You're investigation the Doctor?"

"Yeah," Sally confirmed. "It's a hobby turned obsession. See hear," she began pointing to London, "the night that the scripts for Shakespeare's 'Love's Labour's Won' disappeared was the same night that there were rumours of witches in the Globe Theatre. A ghost in a during a Charles Dickens performance; a string of unusual medical notes during the Blitz, all involving the exact physical injuries; ghost sightings as Caliburn House; there's rumours that the Royal Family has werewolf blood and, my personal favourite – there's that strange something about the moon landing footage that I can't quite put my finger on."

Clara pointed her finger at New York on the world map. "You seem to have a thing for statues, I see."

"No. Not statues," Sally corrected, shaking her head. "Weeping Angels. Statues that become living beings the moment that they're not being watched. Even when you blink."

"They look creepy," Clara frowned. "I wouldn't want to meet one of those."

"We had an encounter. Me and Larry, my husband. We barely survived, but we've studied them ever since."

"Larry?" Jack asked.

"Married!" Clara interrupted.

"I just wanted to say hi," Jack insisted.

"Larry!" Sally called. "We've got visitors!"

"Visitors?" a man asked. After a moment Larry tumbled into the room, carrying two mugs in his hands. "Oh. Alright?"

Sally took one of the mugs off Larry. "This is Jack and this is Clara. They're from Torchwood."

"Oh. Ok," Larry stuttered. "Nice to meet you."

"Larry do you know where that file is?" Sally asked.

"Which one?" Larry inquired, placing his mug on the coffee table.

"The pink one. You remember? That American man gave it to us a few years back. Something to do with Zygons and Russia or something like that," Sally recalled.

Larry's eyes lit up. "Yes! I remember! I've got it here somewhere. Give me a minute." He stepped towards one of the bookcases and rummaged around it, pulling out loose papers and chocolate wrappers. Eventually, he emerged with a pink file. "Here it is!"

"Thanks," Jack grinned, taking the file off Larry, giving him a cheeky wink. Clara slapped him.

"Hold on," Sally thought, "have we met you before?"

"Maybe . . ." Jack muttered, trying to remember. "Yeah. I think we have."

Sally pulled the file from Jack and rummaged through it, pulling out a picture. She held it up next to Jack's face. "It's you!" she gasped. "You gave us this file! But that was five years ago. You haven't changed at all."

"What?" Clara asked in confusion.

"You gave us this file and told us to continue the research," Larry recalled.

"What's in there?" Clara inquired, looking through the folder, looking over images of Zygons and submarines and maps of Europe. "How is it linked?"

Jack looked up at Larry. "Your eye's red."

Sally turned to her husband in concern. "Is it your eye again?"

"Yeah. It's acting up," Larry said, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll get the drops," Sally said, hurrying off.

"Hold on," Clara said, pulling a small piece of paper from the file. The paper was old, as if it had been inside for decades. On the paper was the message: 'London Eye – Friday 30th May, 14.27 at top.' "Is this where we're meant to be? Are we meant to meet someone here?"

"I think so," Jack agreed. "Come on. I'll start the van," Jack said, hurrying out of the shop.

"Come on!" Clara insisted, calling to Sally and Larry. "You're coming too."

Clara skipped out of the shop, followed by Sally and Larry. Wind whipped her hair as she stepped onto the pavement outside. Just as she reached for the handle to the car, a woman leant on the car beside her, making Clara jump back a little.

"What the-?"

"Shush!" the blonde woman hissed. "Don't talk."

"Have I met you before?" Clara whispered.

"Yes. Back at the Maitland House. I'm Bad Wolf, remember," Bad Wolf said, smiling.

"Clara?" Jack called, getting impatient.

"One moment!" Clara replied.

"I'm back again because you're in danger," Bad Wolf warned. "You need to get in the van and go, so I can't explain everything at the moment. At the moment, you're ok, but be careful around Larry."

"Why?" Clara asked.

Bad Wolf didn't reply; she just smiled, winked and disappeared, leaving Clara shaken as she climbed into the car beside Jack.

* * *

The Doctor and River escaped onto the battlefield. The sun was beginning to rise in the distance, but the orange glow was smothered by smoke and flames. Barbed wire threatened to drag them back into the mud as they ran, shielding themselves as explosions rocked the ground. Slowly, the turned up ground seemed to pull them in, oozing with water – possibly even some blood.

"Where are we going?" River cried, pulling the Doctor away from stepping on a land mine.

"Away from here. Out of Nazi occupied. Somehow to Britain but I'm not sure how likely that is," the Doctor replied, constantly turning his head at the sound of bullets.

"And the Zygons?" River asked. "I don't remember any Zygons being in the Second World War."

"I didn't know Vesuvius was caused by an ancient rock monsters, so I suppose I don't know everything after all."

A bomb landed feet away from the Doctor and River. They were scattered into the air, pushed by the force as the flames wrapped around them. When they landed, they nearly drowned in the muddle pit that the fell into as rubble was thrown over their heads. River pulled the Doctor out of the mud, gasping for air herself as a fire raged behind them.

"Doctor!" she cried, slapping his face. "Come on! We have to keep moving!"

The Doctor followed River, tripping and sliding over the land. They could see the Allied troops not too far in the distance, yet it would be a challenge in the continuing onslaught.

"Stop!" the Doctor snapped, grabbing River before she could take another step.

"What?" River asked.

"Can you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

They both stopped, listening over the gunfire and cries. There! That was it. The high pitched whining . . . As if something were falling from the sky.

"JUMP!" the Doctor screamed, pulling River from under the descending bomb.

Suddenly, they were no longer on the ground. The Doctor and River hovered in the sky, surrounded by a glowing funnel of blue light. Their confusion was quickly put aside as the bomb landed beneath them, scattering smoke and dirt high into the air, yet not even a piece of dirt touched them.

"What?" River gasped.

"Sorry about that!" a voice called. An American man. "Just stay there for a second."

"I recognise that voice!" the Doctor laughed.

"Ooh! Hubba!" the American voice teased. "I see we've got a pretty lady on board tonight."

"Oh . . . Thank you," River stuttered, playing with her hair.

"It's him!" the Doctor grinned.

"One sec," the voice insisted. "And can the man with the sonic device please switch it off; it's messing with the equipment." The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and pressed a button, making it switch off. "Thanks. Now hold on. It could be a bit bumpy."

"How bump-EEEEEEE!" River cried as both she and the Doctor were dragged up the tunnel of light, further into the sky.

* * *

After a second, River came round. She woke in the arms of a man in a Captain's uniform. She was in a spaceship – not exactly the most glamorous – a little dusty and bronze, flashing with lights. Slowly, she looked up at the man that held her – dark haired, handsome, with a bit of a bum chin.

"Hello?" River stuttered.

"Hello," said the man in an American accent.

River turned her view, where she saw the Doctor sat at a chair with a cocktail glass in his hand. "Where are we?"

"France. Second Worlds War. Hanging over a battlefield," the man replied.

"And this is your ship?" River clarified. "Not exactly Tardis material. A little small."

"Small, efficient, sleek, streamlined – whatever you fancy," he smiled. "So, who are you, gorgeous?"

River grinned. "I'm River. And that's . . ."

"John Smith," the Doctor interrupted.

"My husband," River added, sounding a little disappointed as she gave the Doctor a look of _what-was-that-for? _

"My name is Captain Jack Harkness. Nice to meet you," Jack smiled, kissing River's hand.

"Married!" the Doctor snapped.

"I was only saying hello," Jack complained.

"That'd better be all," the Doctor warned.

* * *

_**I hope you enjoyed that! Please review and vote on my profile page ASAP! The winner will appear on the 10th June, when the poll closes :)**_


	11. Within the Vaults

_**I really hope you like this - there's a bit of action, and more of the plot lines start to draw together. Remember to vote on my profile page to choose a classic era companion to appear. Enjoy :)**_

* * *

"Thank you for saving us," the Doctor smiled.

"My pleasure, John," Jack nodding (having been tricked into thinking the Doctor was called John Smith). "So – who are the two of you?"

"Just travellers," the Doctor replied. "It's an accident that we're here."

"Oh, really," Jack grinned, then he leaned closer to the Doctor. "I recon you're Time Agents."

"Right . . . Yes," River stuttered, not sure of what was going on.

"Yeah. You got us," the Doctor lied.

"The thing is, not far from here, I've got a fully armed Tula Warship, brimming to the teeth with weaponry that even the Time Agency would be lucky to get their hands on. You can have it. It'll come at a price, but it could all be yours," Jack offered, leaning back into his seat.

The Doctor grinned at River, then looked back at Jack. "Do you do this often?"

Jack looked puzzled. "How do you mean, Sir?"

"Conning people," the Doctor replied.

"The Warship is legit!" Jack insisted, clearly a little annoyed.

"I'm sure it is, but let me guess: we pay the money, go to collect it, and before we do a bomb falls on it," the Doctor winked.

Jack laughed (rumbled), "No way! I'm an honest tradesman."

"Con-artist, I believe the word is, Jack."

"How did you know?" Jack asked. "Was it the ship? Is it my cologne – do I smell like a criminal?"

The Doctor smiled. "Just experience. Remember to set your alarm."

"For what?"

"Volcano day," the Doctor teased.

"What's that meant to mean?"

"You'll know when you get to that point."

River suddenly gasped. "It's _that _Jack!"

"Yep. Here in the flesh," the Doctor confirmed.

Jack looked confused. "What? Do I have a fan club or an appreciation society or something?"

"He's told me all about you," River said, acting suspiciously flirtatious around him.

Jack turned to the Doctor, his eyebrow raised. "Do you somehow know me?"

The Doctor bit his lip, contemplating how to answer. "Sort of."

"Then can you tell me who you are?" Jack asked, more of an instruction.

"I'm . . . John Smith," the Doctor eventually lied. "I can't say much more. The Time Agency won't let me."

River laughed. "Oh, give it up! He's knows we're not from the Time Agency."

"But he can't know who we are. Not you," the Doctor insisted.

"I know – but that Time Agency stuff was rubbish. A monkey could see through that lie."

"Are you saying I have the intellect of a monkey?" Jack argued.

"Not at all. Maybe the emotional sensibility, but I can't be too sure yet," River teased.

Jack turned to the Doctor. "Is she always like this?"

"Always," River replied before the Doctor could speak.

Slowly, Jack began to grin. "I like you a lot," he flirted, easing his lips towards River's.

"So do I," River whispered, giving in to Jack's appeal, moving closer towards him.

"And you're man won't mind?" Jack asked, gazing into River's eyes.

"Not at all," River replied. She pouted, her lips a hair's width from touching Jack's when she slapped him on the cheek.

"OW! Jeez!" Jack cried, pulling his hand to his face.

"Men," River tutted. "Keep dreaming, Jack."

When the Doctor had finished laughed, he looked to Jack seriously. "Jack, I need you to do something for me."

"Why would I? Your girlfriend just hit me!" Jack cried. He clicked his fingers and a ball of amber light appeared around his cut cheek – Nanogenes.

"Because in the future, we are best friends. And wife, not girlfriend," the Doctor replied.

"Prove it," Jack snapped.

The Doctor stopped to think. "I have nothing on me now to prove it, but very soon you're going to see a blonde girl with a Union Jack on her chest hanging from a barrage balloon. Make sure you save her. She's a Time Agent, and she and her associate will buy into your con."

Jack considered the information. Could he trust the Doctor? "Ok then, John. I'll believe you. So, what do you want me to do?"

"Two things," the Doctor explain. "First of all, we need a lift back to the twenty first century, London. I'm guessing you can do that. And the second – and this is a little more complicated . . . I need you to prepare a file."

Jack chuckled a little. "A file? I'm not a secretary."

"I need you to investigate Hitler. Images, diary entries – especially anything out-of-the-ordinary, even by his standards. And any sightings of Zygons. And a girl – Clara Oswald. I don't know who she is, but she's involved somehow."

Jack looked confused. "Can I ask what this is all for?"

"You'll know eventually. And . . . Actually," the Doctor stuttered as he picked up a piece of paper and wrote on it. He handed it to Jack, "Don't read this but keep it in the file."

"This is all a bit of an ask," Jack groaned, snatching the paper out of the Doctor's hands.

"But can I rely on you?" the Doctor asked.

Jack gritted his teeth. "Of course . . . But if that blonde girl doesn't fall for the con, I'll be after you."

The Doctor grinned. "She'll be more worth than just the con."

* * *

Donna stumbled out of the bookshop, clinging to her head with shaking hands. Gwen ran out of the shop behind her.

"Donna, what's wrong?" Gwen asked, chasing after Donna along the street. "Was it that book?"

"Yeah. Yeah it was," Donna stuttered, leaning against a shop window as she gasped for air.

Gwen held Donna's arms, gently rubbing them for comfort. "Well this can't be do bad. Donna I'm going to tell you the truth now because I think you can handle it." Donna looked up into Gwen's eyes. "Donna, you were never meant to remember the Doctor – and I think you know why."

Donna nodded her head. "Yeah . . . There was a meta . . . Meta . . . Metacrisis. I don't even know what that means!"

"But you remember when you travelled with the Doctor?"

"Yes," Donna nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. "There was a giant wasp."

"Really?" Gwen laughed. "But the problem is, you were never meant to remember. If you remembered, your mind would burn and you would die. That fact that you're coping is . . . It's fantastic, but it's worrying me. I don't know why you haven't . . . Died."

"I don't know ever," Donna agreed, her eyes burning with fear. "So what do we do know?"

"We should take you in to Torchwood."

"Torchwood . . . I remember you an' all," Donna recalled.

Gwen smiled and patted Donna on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's get some lunch."

The two of them would have gone for lunch, if the first thing they'd seen hadn't been a policeman. "Can you confirm that you are Donna Noble and Gwen Cooper?"

"Why?" Gwen asked, aggressively.

"Can you please answer the question!" the officer insisted as four other officers surrounded Donna and Gwen.

"I will not answer until you tell me what the hell this is about!" Gwen snapped.

"Shall I just presume that you are indeed Gwen Cooper, and you are simply trying to resist an arrest?"

"No you shall not!" Gwen snapped.

"Arrest?" Donna gasped. "We haven't done anything!"

"What the hell have we done?" Gwen demanded.

"Why do I even bother?" the officer sighed. "Cuff them!"

Immediately, the other officers grabbed Gwen and Donna, forcing them into handcuffs.

"GET OFF ME!" Donna screamed, lashing out at the police.

"The moment that cuff touches me, I will sue you!" Gwen threatened. An officer grabbed Gwen. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!"

"This is rubbish!" Donna cried.

"Donna Noble and Gwen Cooper, I am arresting you on suspicion of hit and run, leaving the scene of an accident, and potentially attempted murder," the officer announced.

"NO WAY!" Gwen snapped. "Get off me! I work for Torchwood! You can't arrest me!"

"Torchwood is not above the law," the officer disagreed.

"Get off!" Donna screamed as the cuffs were finally secured to her hands. "I didn't do anything!"

"This is not happening!" Gwen cried. "You can't arrest us. We didn't do anything."

"We have CCTV footage of you running over a man and loading him into the back of a van before escaping the crime scene," the officer informed them.

"You have to believe us. We didn't do anything!" Donna pleaded.

"Take them to the station," the officer commanded.

"NO!" Gwen screamed as the police officers pulled her down the street.

"GET OFF!" Donna cried, kicking and scratching at the officers. "I'm innocent!"

"We will arrest you for resisting arrest if you continue," the officer threatening.

"I will have you," Gwen snarled. "I will set Torchwood after you, you IDIOT!"

"Is that a threat?" the officer warned her, ignoring the fact that the entire street was watching the arrest.

"You bet it is!" Gwen hissed. "You have no idea!"

"Yeah, sure. Get them out of here!"

* * *

The Daleks led them Master and Amy down to the very centre of their ship – the vaults. Amy gasped for breath, both in fear of the Daleks and the gun that the Master had pointed to her head. They were stood on a large gold platform as it descended into the darkness.

The platform stopped. Before them stood a large silver door. One of the three Daleks moved forwards, placing its sucker onto a circular device to the side of the vault door, causing it to flash with orange light. Suddenly, the whole room began to shake locks throughout the doors clicked open, and eventually, the door opened.

"Anyway else feeling tense?" Amy joked, a feeble attempt to cover her fear.

"Shut up, ginge," the Master snapped.

"You're great at conversations," Amy teased.

The Daleks pushed the Master forward into the vaults.

The Dalek vaults were vast – whole corridors protecting artefacts and weaponry behind glowing force fields. Dalek eyestalks hung on every wall – the security was water-tight. They were led to the very end of the vaults, to another door that was even bigger than the entrance. Once again, the Dalek opened the door, and they entered the final vault.

The final vault was a small black room, lit only by a single rod of light that entered from the ceiling. Glistening, the light fell onto a small, clear jewel, which stood on a metal stand – the White Point Star.

"That's beautiful," Amy gasped.

"Well – it's from Gallifrey, what do you expect?" the Master grinned. He stepped forwards, finally letting Amy go, to touch the diamond. It was cold, sending a comforting shiver down his hand. A bitter reminder of time. Then he snatched it, placing it in his pocket. "Come on, ginge. Let's go."

As the Master stepped to the door, grabbing Amy's arm, a Dalek moved in front of his way, blocking the passage.

"You may not leave!" the Dalek announced.

"Why not?" the Master asked in frustration.

"It was not in the original agreement."

"Then you don't get the gun, but I still have the diamond and a warp star explosive. SO move it!" the Master snapped.

"Yet we have you trapped," the Dalek retaliated.

Amy looked upwards – a revolving set of Dalek weaponry descended from the ceiling. "Jesus!" she gasped.

"Nothing to worry about," the Master shrugged.

"They have us trapped!" Amy gasped. "What do we do?"

"Duck!" the Master cried. He fired at the Daleks, splitting their bodies open.

"Could I have more warning next time," Amy stammered, gasping for air.

"Sorry, ginge. I was busy," the Master grinned. "Follow!" he instructed, picking up the Dalek sucker, using it to open the door.

Amy followed the Master into the corridor, chasing him through the vaults. "Ok, albino, we have to communicate and work together if we're going to survive this!" Amy snapped.

"Albino?" the Master puzzled.

"If you keep calling me ginge, I'll call you albino – get it?"

"Fine . . . babes," he teased.

"Urgh!" Amy groaned. "At least make an effort – for some reason I'm helping you, even though you're after the Doctor."

"Cover your eyes," the Master commanded, stopping beside a vault.

"Why?" Amy asked.

The Master fired at the Dalek eyestalk over the door, scattering sparks over them.

"Thanks," Amy groaned.

The Master once again used the sucker to open the door, and stepped into the vault, giving Amy a look of _come-on-then!_ Amy followed inside. The vault was just like the previous one, yet the stand held a small silver box.

"What's that?" Amy asked as the Master picked at it with his nimble fingers.

"Time machine. Small and not very efficient, but it'll do. Not exactly Tardis quality so we'll probably end up a bit out of date," the Master replied, more concentrated on activating the device. Eventually, it glowed with a green light. "Hold my hand," the Master ordered.

"Where are we going?" Amy inquired, not sure whether she trusted the mad man as he licked his lips.

"You'll see," the Master teased. "And let's face it, you don't have a choice. I've got a gun, and at any moment this place is going to be crawling with Daleks. Hand."

"Ok," Amy agreed, taking the Master's hand.

"Hold in," the Master winked, as the two of them were pulled out of time in a bright flash of green light.

* * *

**_Ooooh! What's the Master's plan? Will Gwen and Donna escape the police? Martha and Mickey face more troubles in the next chapter as oxygen runs low. Remember to vote and review :)_**


	12. At the Weakest Point

_**Sorry I haven't posted in a while - exams :( Anyway, I hope you like this; Amy's pulled closer into the Master's control, the Doctor and River draw up a plan and Martha and Mickey are running out of time . . . And oxygen.**_

* * *

The Doctor and River sat at a coffee shop in London – 2014. The sun was breaking through the clouds, clearing the light scattering of rain on the cloud outside. Coffee lingered in the air of the shop, along with the fragrant homemade cakes the stood behind the glass cabinet.

"What do we do now?" River asked. "What was on the note you wrote? I know you have a plan; you always do."

"No hurry," the Doctor shrugged, sipping his coffee before spitting it back into the cup. "We've got an hour until we have to move."

"To where?" River inquired.

The Doctor just flashed his eyebrows – always one to keep the mystery. "You'll see."

"Doctor, you can't treat this like a game. Hitler is involved! The Nazis. The Holocaust. The Second World War. We can't let the Zygons get involved," River insisted.

"I know."

"You don't seem to be doing much about it then; we're just sat here drinking coffee when there are aliens out there in the world trying to destroy everything human!" River cried, snapping her complementary biscuits as she hammered her fist onto the table in frustration.

"And so is everything else that's happening in the past!" the Doctor retaliated. "There could be Krillitanes in Parliament, the Jagrafess could have complete domination over Western media and Ood working in third world countries from Primark – but I haven't stopped it yet. Time is flexible. You know that. So we have time to sort things out here and now. Besides, we already know there's a link to the modern day."

"Which is?" River asked.

"Clara Oswald – whoever she is," the Doctor replied. "We need to find her and ask for everything she knows. Plus the file. Jack should've got it back by now, so hopefully there'll be more clues in it."

"Clues for what?"

"This," the Doctor answered with a grin. "We've just saved ourselves six decades worth of puzzling over this. Six years of human history with any relevance stored into that one file. All it should take is five minutes to pull the strands together."

River laughed. "You genius!"

"Why thank you."

"Lazy, but genius."

"I'll stick with genius. I've always liked it when-"

"Shut up!" River snapped, stepping out of her seat with a worried expression on her face.

The Doctor's eyebrows crawled together in concern. "Why? What is it?"

"Shush," River hushed, heading towards the TV that hung on the wall of the café. She reached for the remote and turned up the volume. It was a news show – serious BBC with a banner at the bottom of the screen, CCTV and dramatic music. On popped the image of two women, stood in a shopping street as they were surrounded by police officers, then arrested as they kicked back.

"It's . . . It's them!" the Doctor gasped.

"Yes. I recognise them," River recalled.

The screen was then filled with two side by side images of the women – mug shots. One black haired; the other ginger.

"It's Donna," the Doctor cried. "And Gwen. What trouble've they got into?"

"Hit and run by the looks of it," River replied.

Realisation hit the Doctor. "But that was me! They hit the Zygon impersonating me. They kicked an alien not a human. They've got it wrong!"

"What do we do?" River worried.

"Go to the police station. Explain what happened, flirt, anything to get them out safely," the Doctor instructed.

"And you?" River asked.

"I need to meet Jack. We need to work this out."

"Where should I meet you when it's sorted?"

"I dunno. Somewhere . . . You'll find out. Things will probably wind up how they should anyway."

"Ok," River nodded. "Good luck, Sweetie," River grinned, kissing the Doctor on the cheek before running from the café.

"Ok," the Doctor said, shaking out his neck and shoulders. "Time to sort this out."

* * *

Martha grew cold. Her skin contracting from the cold, goose pimpled and grey. Even Mickey didn't warm her as they clung together, floating through the vast emptiness that surrounded them. The window frosted over, diamond clouds scattering through the air.

"No-ones coming, are they," Mickey muttered, his mouth clenching in cold.

"You never know. Don't say for definite . . . There's always time."

"You don't sound convinced."

Martha shuffled closer into Mickey's arms, "Maybe not . . . I'm just hoping. That and you."

Mickey kissed Martha on the forehead. "No regrets?"

"Not really," Martha shrugged. "A family would've been nice . . . One of our own to tell all our stories to – the best bedtime story in the universe. Never mind, hey. We worked. We don't need kids, do we? Three's a crowd."

"Yeah," Mickey nodded. "I've got you; one baby's enough," he joked. "I wanted to travel more. Not necessarily with the Doctor but just see the word . . . I missed years of actually living from the daily grind . . . I never realised what was out there."

"Egypt. I hear it's beautiful," Martha smiled, starlight flickering in her eyes like a movie screen. "And the Amazon . . . Angel Falls . . . We'll do it all. Just you watch. We'll do it all – every last adventure, and when we get too old we'll get our kids to send us postcards from all the places they'll be going."

"You think? Sounds like a plan . . . I look forward to it," Mickey grinned.

An alarm beeped as oxygen levels ran low, but the two of them overlooked it, too fascinated by their fading futures together. They could almost see their children, dancing in their eyes in romper suits and ice cream noses. Only ever smiles.

* * *

Amy coughed the red dust from her lungs, inhaling deep breathes of steaming hot air as sunlight scattered through her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her head, opening her eyes to the rivers of sand around her. It was everywhere – in her shoes, in her hair, in her lungs. Perhaps another planet, some desert in a far of galaxy. Nevertheless, sweat sparkled like crystals over her body in the baking heat. She scrambled to her feet, slipping a little as if there were ice beneath her.

The Master wasn't too far from Amy. He was rabid, slowly descending into the madness Amy had only seen brief clippings of so far. His face was almost glowing red as he began to assemble a device. It was large – waist height – composed of metal sheeting and wires and the White Point Star. Every item was placed to his meticulous precision, forming a masterpiece to reflect the genius hidden within his insanity.

"How long was I sleeping?" Amy asked, stumbling towards the Master.

The Master didn't reply; he was too busy finishing his work.

"Not talking, eh? Could you please just! I'm tired of this. I just want to get back to the Doctor and Rory. Just use that teleport to get me back," Amy pleaded.

"I can't," the Master snapped.

"Why not?" Amy argued.

Glaring into Amy, the Master slowly gestured towards the table, liking his lips.

"You used the teleport in that?" Amy asked, already knowing she was right. "So what's it for? Teleporting us somewhere? Teleporting us to the Doctor?"

"No. Somewhere else," the Master replied.

"Where? Back to Earth?"

"Nope."

"Just tell me!" Amy snapped. "I'm put up with you to save my life and to get away from the Daleks; no that those threats aren't still here, I may as well just go."

"Oh, but you're my leverage," the Master grinned.

"Then why do we need to travel somewhere? You could just call the Doctor or something. You are way over complicating this."

"But I need to show you why I'm doing this. I need to show you why I want the Doctor dead, and why he deserves to me. What I have in store will convince you too," the Master insisted.

Amy's interest peaked. "Really? What've you got to show me?"

"Hold on," the Master said, gesturing to two handles at Amy's side of the device as he held the ones on his.

Amy didn't. "Explain. Now, or I won't come. Less fun if you're just reliving memories by yourself."

The Master groaned as he caved in. "Our destination should never we travelled to. There are laws that stop us from taking a step their . . . But I've never been one for obeying rules. If you want to break into a vault, where to you hit the hammer?"

"The weakest point," Amy replied.

"Exactly. If we're going to break in, we need to access via the weakest point in an otherwise strong location. This planet was ravaged by war hundreds of years ago; under the ground are ruins of whole civilisations that perished, someone of which I used to build this device. Millions died. Billions of others caught in the crossfire. Not Time War standard, but certainly one of the closest. On one day – the final day – a weapon was used. It ended the war by unravelling the timelines of everyone on the battlefield, undoing the world until everyone died, yet every action until that point remained. Confusing for a human, I guess. Such a massive time distortion left a weak point in time. That's why we're here," the Master explained, his eyes flickering with interest and excitement as he recalled the horror of the war.

"And the destination? There's a weak point here, but we're not trying to break into here – we're breaking into a vault, remember? Weak points on both sides," Amy asked.

The Master grinned. "Clever girl. You've obvious picked up something from the Doctor." Amy smiled. "Ever seen a crack in time?"

Amy almost laughed. "I grew up with one in my bedroom wall."

"Exactly. A crack in time is week; we can slip through into that world from this," the Master explained, licking his lips.

"Ok," Amy sighed, wiping her hair from her eyes. "Fine. I'm up for it," Amy reluctantly agreed, holding on to the device.

"Good. Hold on tight. The casing's weak so expect it to be rough," the Master warned, adjusting the settings on the console. "Here we go, ginge! Back to Gallifrey!"

Amy looked in shock . . . Had the Master really just said that? She'd heard the Doctor mention that word many times before, becoming the most intriguing word in her life since she was kidnapped by a blonde man on a Dalek ship. She opened her mouth to question, but the air was sucked from around her as the desert turned to the whole universe in a tunnel around her. She could almost see it in front of her . . . Gallifrey!

* * *

Martha clung to Mickey as they floated through space. The air almost gone.

They slipped closer to death into each other's arms . . .

* * *

_**Gallifrey? Donna and Gwen in prison? Will Martha and Mickey survive? Please vote in the poll on my profile to choose a classic era companion to appear in this story. Remember to review!**_


	13. Saved by the Daughter

_**Hope you enjoy! Sorry (again) it took a while to post but I've been busy. Vote NOW for a companion which WILL feature in the next chapter, so vote quickly. Please review as well! :)**_

* * *

"This is _so _boring!" Angie complained, skipping on the rock slabs around the edge of the lake.

"Hey. I'm sorry but I didn't expect to have to play nanny for you kids," Rex moaned.

"I think it's very interesting here," Artie smiled.

"See – your brother gets it," Rex argued.

"Can I at least play some music?" Angie pleaded.

"Yeah. Sure. But no-one of that boy band, One Direction rubbish!" Rex insisted, directing Angie to the speakers.

"Urgh! No way. Indie's my thing," Angie smiled, plugging her phone into the speakers, blasting her music room through the Torchwood Hub.

Rex nodded his head along to it. "Yeah. Alright I guess."

"_Alright_?" Angie cried. "This is Kasabian mate. 48:13. No better."

Artie sat by and watched, laughing beside the computers. The music was loud, blasting over the beeping from the computer screen as it flashed red with an alert. An image appeared on the monitor – black and white security footage. The footage showed the vaults under the Hub; the prisons. Slowly, from the end of the corridor, the Zygon that had once been the Doctor crawled out of its cell, snarling.

Within seconds, the entire Hub turned dark with red warning lights. Rex immediately turned to Artie.

"What happened?" he asked in panic.

"I dunno," Artie stuttered.

"What does the screen say?"

Artie turned to the screen. The footage was replaced with static. "Nothing . . . Hold on! Code Three."

"Oh, Jesus!" Rex gasped. Suddenly, he took Angie by the arm and led her to the door, gesturing for Artie to follow.

"What are you doing?" Angie asked. "What's going on?"

"Code Three – a creature's escaped from the cells. I need to get you two safe," Rex told them, scanning his eyes and finger into the door . . . It didn't open. "Damn it!"

"Why won't it let you out?" Artie asked.

"Lockdown procedure. We can't leave the Hub," Rex replying, scanning the room in fear. "Stay close. This is gonna be dangerous."

* * *

"What do we do now?" Rory asked. He and Sarah Jane had found their way to the tourist centre; they sat at seats as people crossed by them, unseen, as they spoke under their breaths, sipping on the juice Sarah had just brought back.

"Cybermen under Yellowstone – it can be nothing but evil, I tell you," Sarah frowned, sitting down opposite Rory.

"If only I had the Doctor's number," Rory groaned, gazing out across the park. "They must be, I dunno, hijacking the volcano or something . . ." Rory thought.

"Whatever they're doing, this is out of our depth. We need help," Sarah decided.

"Have a number?"

"Maybe," Sarah thought, her eyes suddenly glowing. "I used to have some contacts," she realised, pulled a small notepad from her inside pocket, "this is just for essentials . . . Let's see . . . Aha!" she cried.

"What is it?" Rory asked.

"UNIT! Just who we need!" Sarah laughed.

"Phone. Over there," Rory said, pointing to a pay phone by the gift shop.

Sarah smiled to Rory, then skipped off to the phone. Just before she pressed the number in, she turning back to Rory. "Got any coins?"

"Here," Rory called, throwing the contents of his pocket to Sarah.

"Thanks," she grinned. She paused, "Well, American coins would be useful, but I could do with these anyway," she laughed pocketing them.

Rory giggled to himself, sipping from his juice as Sarah haggled for coins from passers-by. He gazed out into the distance – the entire park stretching out in front of him. Beautiful.

A couple opposite him smiled and kissed in front of a camera, pulling faces and laughing together. A ginger haired woman and a tall, sandy hair man. It made Rory smile.

Slowly, he turned back to Sarah . . . A gasp . . .

The floor was littered with tourists on the ground. Motionless. Sarah stood amongst them as a Cyberman held her hands as she attempted to force her way free. The Cyberman fired, and the couple the Rory had watched fell to the floor. Rory gasped again, raising his arms in surrender.

Oh no.

* * *

A shudder! The pod was rocked to a side. There was a clank of metal, then a vacuumed sucking. Slowly, the pod door opened, and a woman crawled inside them pod.

Martha wheezed, coughing and spluttering as oxygen flooded back into her body. Her vision blurred – she could see Mickey, also scrambling back into life – and a blonde woman sat at the opening of the pod with blonde hair. Was Martha dreaming?

"Alright?" the woman sat with a grin.

"W-what's happening?" Mickey stuttered. "Oxygen . . . What's happened to the oxygen?"

"Don't worry," the blonde woman comforted them. "I've got oxygen feeding in through my ship. You'll be fine. Thank God I got here in time."

"I-I recognise your voice," Martha stuttered, holding her chest as she sucked the fresh air back into her lungs. "Have I met you before?"

"Yep. A while ago but I'd be shocked if you didn't remember me," the woman recalled.

"I remember . . ." Martha coughed, her eyes finally focusing onto the woman. She was young with a blonde ponytail, with a green top and dark trousers. "It's you!"

"Who?" Mickey wondered.

"Jenny," the woman grinned, shaking Mickey's weak hand. "Nice to meet you. I met you, Martha. Remember? Messaline."

"But you died! You were shot," Martha gasped.

"Time Lord, remember. I was made from the Doctor's cells; I can regenerate."

"What?" Mickey cried. "But that would make you . . . I dunno . . . The Doctor's daughter or something."

"Exactly," Jenny nodded. "I spotted your ship and locked on. It's only now that I recognise that beautiful face of Martha Jones."

"Thank you," Martha smiled, hugging Jenny. "Thank you."

"It's alright," Jenny laughed. "I didn't go out of my way or anything."

"You saved our lives!"

"Consider it repayment for the kindness you showed me the last time we met."

"So, how did this happen – floating about in a spaceship?"

"I . . . Acquired it," Jenny shrugged. "Woke up after I thought I died, then decided to rocket out across the universe. In my father's footsteps, I guess. Anyway, can't stay long. Sycorax causing some trouble. Would you allow me the pleasure of allowing one last favour?"

Martha gleamed. "Please. Thank you so much!"

"Anytime. I would give you my number but it's unlikely I'd answer to anyone," Jenny smiled. "Where abouts am I dropping you off?"

"Earth," Martha begged.

"Then it's sorted," Jenny smiled. "Come on in. Your ride's much too cramped."

* * *

"How much further?" Sally asked, watching London pass by from the backseat of the Torchwood van.

"In a hurry?" Jack joked.

"I don't understand any of this," Clara fussed, still rummaging through the file.

"Neither could we," Larry added. "A missing link, I recon. Something to join everything together."

"I know. But what?" Clara stuttered.

"Confusing, right?" Bad Wolf grinned, sat beside Clara, making her jump. "Don't speak, remember. And don't fuss; you'll work it out soon enough."

"Maybe it hasn't happened yet," Jack guessed, "the link, I mean. Maybe it all points to something in the future."

"Wrong again, Jack, hey," Bad Wolf joked, making Clara laugh.

"What was that?" Jack called.

"Nothing," Clara insisted, smiling. "Can he not see you?" she whispered to Bad Wolf.

She smiled. "If only. He'd love to see me again, but there'd be too many questions with too little time."

"She was being cheeky!" Larry teased.

Clara nodded to Larry subtly. "Why did you warn me?"

"Because you need to be careful around him," Bad Wolf warned. "It's not happened yet, but soon enough he's going to cause you a lot of trouble."

"Then give me a sign," Clara insisted.

"It's the eyes," Bad Wolf replied.

"Hurting again?" Sally asked, resting a hand on Larry's shoulder.

"Yeah," Larry nodded, rubbing his eyes. Clara could see properly through the mirror, but she was sure she could see fine grains fall from his eyes.

"I've got drops here," Sally said, rummaging through her back before pulling out eye drops, applying them to Larry's eyes.

Clara turned to Bad Wolf. "What is it?"

"All in due time," she teased, "but keep an eye open. Be aware. I'm busy at the moment so may not be able to help if you need it. I'm not just your fairy Godmother, you know. Just been half way across the universe – steering a woman called Jenny in the right direction. She'll be happy to see an old friend, I expect."

* * *

"Over there!" Artie cried, pointing behind the computers.

"I saw it too!" Angie agreed.

"Ok . . . Ok," Rex stuttered, raising the gun from his pocket. "Sorry if you have to see this kids. I'll tell you to look away."

"You may need extra eyes," Angie argued.

A pink mass shuffled, clawing through the darkness, hidden by the red lighting. Rex moved Angie and Artie back.

"There!" Angie screamed.

"Where?"

"There!"

"There isn't a very specific reply!"

"What do you want – GPS?!"

"This far underground?"

"Well sorry!"

Suddenly, the lights flickered out, plunging the room into darkness. Angie clutched her brother's hand. Rex squeezed Angie's arm. Then the hissing began.

Rex fired out of fear. The shot sparked, briefly illuminating the room. Was that the Zygon? There was something that had moved. Rex was sure it had been the Zygon.

"I don't like this," Artie whimpered.

"Stay close, Artie," Angie calmed him, hiding her fear.

The red lights flickered back, revealing the large Zygon in the centre of the room, snarling at Rex, hissing as pink goo oozed from its mouth.

"Close your eyes, kids," Rex cried as he fired the gun . . . Nothing happened. No bullets. "Damn it!" Rex cursed under his breath as the Zygon approached.

* * *

_**I hoped you liked that! As I said, vote as soon as possible and review :)**_


	14. Holding Secrets

_**I'm so, so sorry I haven't updated this in ages - I hope this chapter makes up for it. Back with more Rory/Sarah drama, the three fierce girls unite (I really should've put more arguing) and the Doctor finally unites with Clara . . . Plus, the winner of my vote is revealed!**_

* * *

Rory slowly raised his head. His vision was swimming with blurs and flashes, crawling back into vision in front of him. The shoulder-length flow of Sarah's brown hair slipped into clarity as she too fluttered her eyes open.

"Are you alright?" Rory stuttered to Sarah.

"Ah . . . My head," she muttered, slumped up against a wall.

"Here. Let me help," Rory offered, crawling over beside Sarah. Her peered towards her head, revealing a small trickle of blood. "It must be cut. Nothing to worry about but it'll clean it up a bit." Using the small bottle of water from his pocket and an unused tissue, Rory cleaned up the wound on Sarah's head.

"Thank you."

"No problem. It's all sorted now. Make sure you get it checked over later."

"Where are we?"

Rory looked around him. The whole room was glowing with blue light through the metal room, occasionally flashing with orange and turquoise lights. He coughed. "I dunno. The Cybermen got up. We must be back in their base."

"They've changed appearance since the last time I've met them," Sarah recalled.

"I know, right," Rory agreed.

"Did you get to call UNIT?" Rory asked.

"Yeah," Sarah nodded. "They're on their way. Let's just hope the Cybermen don't have plans to kill us quickly."

* * *

"Afternoon, ladies."

Donna pulled her head up out of its slump, looking up at the figure at the entrance of the cell door. Gwen staggered to her feet, a little dazed and confused.

"Who are you?" Gwen asked, half spitting it out.

"A woman here to help you. Quick. We must leave now. The guards think they're floating in purple clouds with candy canes and a sphinx made from lollipop sticks, but that'll only last for another minute or so – I do love my lipstick," the woman grinned.

"What the hell are you talking about? You are a right nutter!" Gwen cried.

"Don't worry," Donna stuttered. "I recognise her. It's you, isn't it? The woman from the Library. Professor River Song!"

River's grin fell to a frown. "How do you remember me? The Doctor said that you'd forgotten; your memory would burn if you remembered."

"I dunno. I remember that – the Doctor wiping my memory – and now I can remember everything. My head doesn't even hurt. How is it possible?" Donna asked.

"I haven't a clue," River gulped. "Seventy nine to the power of four?"

Donna shrugged. "Why the hell are you asking me that?"

"Just checking something."

"Checking what?"

"The Doctordonna," River replied. "You no longer have a Time Lord's mind. You're just Donna. Donna and her memories without a trace of Time Lord."

"How did that happen?" Gwen gasped.

"Maybe the Doctor got it wrong?" Donna suggested. "He obviously got it wrong about you."

"What do you mean by that?" River asked, turning to Donna.

"Well," Donna stuttered, "he said that you . . . He said that . . ."

"What did he say?" River snapped.

"He said that-"

"Stop!" Gwen cried, silencing Donna before she could say anything else.

"You know too?" River asked Gwen.

"Yes. Yes I do. And we cannot say," Gwen insisted.

"Why not?" River worried. "What's going to happen to me at the Library?"

"Nothing!" Gwen snapped. "You have to understand that we cannot say anything. Now, go on. Tell us what we need to do now."

River gulped, putting her confusion and worry aside. "Something's going on. The Doctor's gone to sort it out but he's sent me to get you out of here first. Sontarans, Cybermen, Daleks, Vashta Nerada – not a scratch on the British legal system. Come on, let's go!" River, with a gesture for the others to follow, left the cell.

Gwen turned to Donna. "You can't tell her. You can't tell her that she's going to die."

"But if we tell her, she doesn't have to die!" Donna argued.

"If she doesn't die at the Library, then the Doctor will die in her place. She has to go," Gwen replied. "Neither of us can say a word. Now come one!"

* * *

The Torchwood van parked. Out stepped Clara, Jack, Sally and Larry, slamming the black doors shut as they stared up into the soft clouds amongst the blue sky. Above them, the large white wheel slowly rotated – the London Eye. They stood on the small rectangle of grass before it, staring up into the pods that spun with it.

"What do we do now? Just get on at the next pod?" Clara asked.

"I think so," Jack replied.

"He's a bit mystical, isn't he," Sally grinned. "Anyone else and this wouldn't work. He's sent us a message from decades ago to be at a certain place and a certain time – and this is the second time for us."

"Anyone got any money?" Larry asked.

"For what?" Clara wondered.

"To pay for a go," Larry answered.

Jack laughed. "We don't need tickets. We're Torchwood. We have the authority to stop it spinning at a moment's notice."

"No you don't. We're not that gullible," Clara giggled.

"You'd be surprised," Jack grinned.

"You're saying that I'm gullible?" Clara argued.

"No, I meant that you'd be surprised by our authority . . . But yeah, you are incredibly gullible," Jack joked.

"It's two twenty six," Sally said, gesturing to her watch. "We should make a move."

"Agreed," Jack nodded, "come on."

Jack led Clara, Sally and Larry to the front of the queue, silently pushing past tourists with one flourish of his Torchwood ID. At the precise moment their watches synced at two twenty seven, they stepped into the glass walled pod and the door was shut behind them.

A lonely man sat in the pod . . . He faces outwards into the Thames, a soft glow of grey and white rippling over his shadowed body as he simply sat and stared and waited.

"Excuse me," Jack called, "this space is currently owned by Torchwood. Could you please exit the pod?"

The lonely man turned – first a little shuffle, then spinning his whole body around to face them. His hair was dark and flopping over to a side. He wore tweed under his large chin – a large red bowtie hung between them. A smile split across his face.

"Jack!" the Doctor beamed, running up to shake Jack's hand, who reluctantly wet through with it, his eyebrows raised.

"You know me?" Jack muttered, pulling his hand away from the Doctor.

"Yes! Of course you do. It's me!" the Doctor grinned, waving his hands about in the air. "Good old Eleven! A bit different from the last one but I did hope you'd recognise me."

"Eleven?" Sally stuttered. "As in, eleventh incarnation?"

"And it's you two!" the Doctor laughed jumping into Sally in a large hug. "Sally Sparrow, how's the Angels? And Larry!" the Doctor beamed, shaking Larry's confused hand. "Lovely couple!"

"You're the Doctor?" Larry clarified.

"Yeah! It's me!"

"I remember now . . ." Jack recalled. "I met you and the blonde woman back in the War. But you said you were time agents?"

"Rule one: the Doctor lies," Clara remembered.

"You gave me that folder to make. Why?" Jack asked.

"Got it on you?" the Doctor wondered.

"Here," Larry said, holding it up.

"Excellent!" he cried, grabbing the folder from Larry's hands, licking his lips with enthusiastic, glimmering eyes.

"Regenerated, then," Jack muttered. "You look . . . Young."

"Oh. Thank you," the Doctor grinned, flaunting his hair.

"Nice chin."

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Ok," Clara began, moving along the conversation, "what's going on? This file, what's it all about?"

The Doctor turned to Clara – his expression was blank, a slight glimmer of curiosity. "Oh . . . Hello," he stuttered. "Do I know you? Timelines – sorry but this might be a bit confusing."

Clara raised an eyebrow to the Doctor. "Yes, you know me. Clara?"

The Doctor's confusion remained on his face. "Ah!" he cried. "It was you! The woman I attacked – well, the woman the Zygon attacked – in that street. I'm so sorry! You must be so confused by all of this!"

"No, not really," Clara frowned, "I'm used to all of this."

"Really?" the Doctor asked, intrigued. "How so?"

Clara's expression dropped, all hope fading. "You really don't remember me?"

The Doctor frowned. "I'm so sorry . . . Did I mean something to you?"

A small smile broke across Clara's face. "Yes. Yes you did."

"Who are you, Clara?"

Clara stuttered a little, unsure of how to answer. "An impossible girl."

"An impossible girl? And what does that mean?"

"You'll have fun working it out."

"Oooh," the Doctor giggled, rubbing his hands together. "I like you!"

Clara was left, watery-eyed, as the Doctor danced to the centre of the pod, laying the papers from the file out across the table. Jack stood beside Clara, rubbing her arm in sympathy.

"You'll have to tell him at some point," Jack reminded her.

"I know," Clara stuttered. "I just don't think I can say it now. All this time travelling with him and now he's suddenly forgot . . . He doesn't have a clue who I am . . ."

* * *

"OH MY GOD!" Artie screamed, retreated back from the approaching Zygon.

"Shoot it!" Angie cried.

"There are no more bullets!" Rex shouted, pulling Angie and Artie back from the Zygon as it hissed at them.

"We're dead, aren't we?" Artie whimpered.

"No! Don't say that!" Rex cried, wrapping his arms around the two children as he shielded them.

"The Doctor will save us," Angie willed, crying onto her brother's head as she hid.

"Close your eyes," Rex instructed them calmly, his voice trembling.

"Please . . ." Artie begged.

"Spare them! They're just children!" Rex pleaded.

"Prepare for your death!" the Zygon hissed.

Suddenly, there was a large burst of red light. The large metal doors to the Torchwood Hub were blown from their hinges, flickering with flames as they were flung to the ground, sparking. A bolt of red light was fired, sending the Zygon to the floor in a violent force of energy. Rex, Angie and Artie watched, teary-eyed, as the thick smoke cleared.

Two figures stood valiantly in the smoking doorway, one small and one taller. One a dog and one a woman. A metal and a woman with her hair tied back and a large gun in her arms.

K-9 and Ace!

* * *

_**. . . . What will happen next? The Doctor finally realises the Zygon plan and River makes her own discoveries. Please review! :)**_


End file.
